In Sickness And In Health
by J.E.McCormickGal
Summary: Pip falls ill, and has to take a some time off school and work - and when an old friend from the past re-appears, what will happen? Dip, background Creek and Bunny, rated T for basic South Park and yaoi.
1. Chapter 1 ::Ill::

**In Sickness and In Health**

Pip's friends were worried about him. For almost two weeks now, he had been arriving at school looking worse for wear, thin, pale and overall ill.

"Pip, you should get some rest, take sick leave." Butters said worriedly, looking up at the slightly-taller Brit. Pip smiled gently and shook his head.

"I can't. I can't afford to miss any of this study. Plus, I need to work to be able to keep my funds up, so I can pay easily for my house. As much as I have quite a lot of money, it doesn't come fully into my possession for another 2 years– then I'll be 18 and they can start to give me my inheritance. But until then, I'm paying for the house and my food and bills with the money I earn at Harbucks." Pip explained in a voice so soft it was barely above a whisper. His frail-looking frame shook violently with coughing, and he bent over double with the force.

"If you take sick leave, I-I can still pay you... holiday leave o-or summin. We d-don't want you working –nngh- too hard. I can give you m-my wages too, if you like. They-they're basically like pocket-money to me, I-I don't NEED the money. You do." Tweek said, patting Pip on the back as the coughing subsided. Pip shook his head.

"I can't take your money. If I get money, I earn it. That's why I work. Else I'd be living off money gifts, like a beggar. I like to know I'm not relying on others." Pip said, gasping slightly. Tweek and Butters exchanged a glace. They were about to say more, when their boyfriends walked over. It was the end of the school day – Butters walked with Kenny and Tweek took the bus with Craig.

Kenny wrapped his arms around his small boyfriend's waist from behind, pulling Butters back and nuzzling his nose into his neck.

"Hey Buttercup." He purred, and Butters turned his head to peck his cheek. Kenny started conversing with Butters, by talking in a low quiet voice into his ear. Butters giggled and started complaining that it tickled, simply encouraging Kenny to start blowing gently onto his ear and neck, holding him captive as the smaller blonde started wriggling.

When he looked over to Tweek an equally affectionate display was occurring, though not in quite the same way. Despite the fact that Craig didn't show all that much emotion outwardly, it was obvious he loved his little spastic blonde; his lips curved into the smallest of loving smiles, and his normally hard steel grey-blue eyes softened.

Tweek was pressed tight against Craig's side; clasping one of the noirette's hands like his life depended on it, much like the other was holding onto his thermos. He was smiling as he told Craig a vague description of his day, including various theories that had occurred to him. Craig was listening and nodding, his arm slung over Tweek's shoulder, occasionally dipping his head to affectionately peck his lover's face.

"I'll see you later guys." Pip said, though it was more to himself and so quiet anyway that no-one would have heard him. However, as he started to walk away Tweek broke away from Craig to grab his arm.

"T-take today off Pip." Pip was about to protest when Tweek interrupted him "I-I mean it Pip. No work today. I'll talk to you later."

Pip nodded and Tweek smiled at him, waved goodbye and returned to Craig, allowing himself to be gently sheparded in the direction of the bus. Butters also called a goodbye, and even Kenny nodded at him in acknowledgment.

As Pip walked home, he thought of the loving couples and how he wished he had someone to love him like Craig and Kenny loved Tweek and Butters.

-X-

Pip let himself into his house. The familiar cream walls, clean light-brown carpet and chocolate-coloured furniture soothed him; everything was how he'd left it.

He briefly checked the kitchen and bedrooms, taking some medicine, changing into some looser and more comfortable clothes and sitting down with a good cup of English tea. Pip checked his notebooks, completed some English homework and, at around 5, decided to have a small dinner – a simple sandwich with some salad. He wasn't really hungry, just tired.

Eventually the stress of the day, the illness he was suffering from and pure exhaustion took its toll on the fragile Brit, and he dozed off on his sofa.

When he suddenly jolted awake, shivering and covered in a cold sweat, his front room was almost pitch black. He felt his way to the light-switch, and looked at the clock. It was 12pm, midnight. Pip decided a short warm shower would help to make him drowsy again, so he trudged up the stairs. After showering he changed into his pyjamas, lay in his large empty bed, and waited for sleep to once again claim him.

After a long night of restlessness and little sleep, Pip was in a far worse state than the previous day. But still he went through his usual routine – wash, change, brush hair, have breakfast, brush teeth, pack up and leave for school. It took him a little while longer than usual – the poor blonde was feeling extremely worn out and weak.

He trudged wearily through the snowy streets, trying to keep his usual smart posture. His head was thick and spinning slightly, he couldn't think straight and the shapes before him started to blur together. Pip stumbled into the cold snow, tried to pick himself up, then fell back and passed out.

-X-

It was almost 10 minutes until someone passed Pip's unconscious form. The tall figure of a teenage boy, with pitch-black attire that accented the paleness of his skin, and long black bangs that hung handsomely over his dark eyes, eventually found the Brit.

Having decided to walk to school instead of appearing at the gates in a column of fire, as he could have done, the boy was wrapped in his own thoughts when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of bright red.

There lay Pip. If it hadn't been for the fact that the black-clad figure recognised the long blonde hair and slightly feminine features of the sleeping boy, the newcomer may have simply left him there. Instead he searched Pip's pockets until he found his phone and, choosing one of the very few numbers at random, called it.

"Hello? Pip?" a childish voice answered the phone after a few rings.

"This isn't Pip. I've just found your friend passed out in the snow. I suggest you come down and help him as soon as possible, I don't know how long he's been lying here." The newcomer said.

"Oh sweet Jesus! Tweek! We've gotta go help Pip!" the voice gasped on the other end. The voice faded slightly as it shouted away from the phone, but soon came back "Where is he?"

The newcomer gave a location, hung up, replaced the Brit's phone and carried on his way.

-X-

When Pip came to, he found himself lying somewhere warm and soft. He could hear two soft voices talking near-by.

"Is the doctor coming?"

"Y-yeah. He said he's –nngh- coming right over."

"That's good. Golly, I hope this is nothing serious. I wish he'd just taken some rest, like we told him."

"W-what are we going to do now? When he comes round he-he'll just get up and make himself worse again."

"No he's not! I'm going to stay here with him till he's better. He needs someone to help him while he recovers. I don't care what he says, I'm his friend by golly, and I'm not letting him make himself ill again."

Pip squeezed his eyes tighter shut and tried to shake his head to clear it. He could just about recognise the voices as being those of two people he knew, but he still couldn't think straight enough to figure out who they were. A phone started going off, and one of the voices excused themselves.

"Hey Craig..." he heard, before whoever the voice belonged to walked out of clear hearing range.

"Nnngh..." Pip tensed and stretched his muscles, and attempted to sit up. His vision was still slightly blurry, but he saw a familiar figure with platinum blonde hair and a baby-blue fleece hurry over to his side and ease him back down.

"Lie down Pip. You need to rest."

Pip rubbed his eyes, and his eyes finally came into focus. He yawned slightly, and looked around. He was in his bedroom, though he had no idea how he'd gotten there.

"B-Butters? What on Earth happened...?"

"You passed out. You were out in the snow for who knows how long. Honestly Pip, we told you to rest. You're really ill." Butters looked down at him sympathetically, then felt his forehead. "Jeez, you're burning up. Oh Pip..."

The small blonde moved away before coming back with a cool, slightly damp cloth and pressed it against Pip's forehead. Then he bustled around the bed, fluffing the pillows and arranging various things out of Pip's sight.

Tweek returned to the room, and smiled at Pip when he saw he was awake.

"H-hey Pip." He turned to Butters "I told Craig we wouldn't be in today because we're looking after P-Pip, and to tell Mr. Garrison that too. He said he'd tell Kenny, and they might come around after school. He hopes you get better soon, Pip."

"That's just because he wants you back." Pip joked quietly. He tried to give a short laugh, but instead started coughing feebly. He lay heavily back, his chest rising up and down as he tried to regain his breath.

"Go back to sleep Pip. We'll look after you." Butters said. Pip happily complied, slipping back into a happy, warm unconsciousness filled with nothing but black.

-X-

"Class you may, or may not, remember Damien. He has rejoined us after 8 years, so make him welcome."

Damien took a seat at an empty desk, behind Christophe and Gregory. The French brunette turned to talk to him.

"'Ello Damien. I 'ave not seen you een a while."

"I know. Dad insists I should come back here. Tsk." Damien shook his head.

"Heh."

"Luckily I don't think being popular here is particularly hard any more. Besides, I don't give a damn about these kids. I'm just here to make Dad happy. Else I'm gonna be kicked out to Earth anyway, have no way home, and no powers for at least two weeks, he said. I wasn't gonna risk it." Damien lit a flame on his finger, as if to prove a point.

"Mmm. Eef I remember correctly, from eenteleegence 'ere, you were friends wiz zat Brit – Peep, oui?"

"Yeah. Then I set him on fire."

"'E seems to be one of a forgeeveeng nature. 'Eck, ze students 'ere 'ave beat 'im for 'owever many years, and 'e is steel ceeveel to zem. I 'ave seen 'im before now, and zo zey have once beaten 'im to almost wizeen an eench of 'is life, 'e ees steel perfectly polite."

At this point, Gregory turned to chip in the conversation.

"I remember that time. I had to save him. As nice and kind as he is, he also never stands up for himself. I have never seen him raise a hand to anyone – not since 4th Grade, with that dodgeball incident. I've hung around with him before, a few times – a nice bit of English company. Still, I would not bet on him instantly forgiving you. Although he thanks you for his friends, he never really looks all too happy if conversation turns to you."

"He thanks me for him having friends?"

"Yes. He said that because of the burns he sustained, he had to go to the nurses office next day, and he met Tweek and Butters there. He said, if you hadn't set him on fire, he'd have never really met them. Then he muttered something like 'figures'."

Damien nodded, and sat silently in thought, and conversation stopped there.

Damien was stood underneath a tree in the school grounds, making a small flame dance around his hand as he stared at it and thought.

"Hey~!" he heard a familiar voice, accompanied by the sight of a familiar blonde.

"Hey Kenny." He said, pretending to groan like he didn't want the boy there.

"Y'know, I heard you talking to Gregory and Christophe – you naughty boy, you lied!"

"So?"

"You're blaming your dad for your return, when actually you've come up here all love-sick and searching for your precious little blonde angel." Kenny looked straight at Damien.

"Keep your voice down." He growled. Kenny chuckled.

"Aw, Damien's going soft." He joked, poking the Antichrist. He received a small scorch mark on his hoodie in reply. "Say, you know your gonna have to hurry up and make yourself taken right? Cause the chicks here ADORE the whole moody bad-ass boys, AKA Craig Tucker and now you, and Craig's not straight – so you, my friend, are now the new chick-magnet."

"Hmm, of course." Damien replied sceptically.

"Look over to your right, behind that bench you will see 3-5 five girls sitting together and giggling – Bebe, Red, Annie and a few others, all looking over at you and getting all fan-girly." Kenny stated, and when Damien checked, it was true. A blonde with curly hair and lots of make-up, a tom-boyish looking girl with long straight auburn hair, and another blonde with extremely frizzy hair were sat together. Behind them were another 2 or three girls, and they were all talking together, giggling and looking in their direction.

"Well, fuck them." Damien dismissed.

"I would if I wasn't currently dating someone." Kenny grinned, and Damien shook his head.

"And speaking of fan-girls, at all costs avoid the Goths – they will practically worship you, and I can bet Henrietta would go gooey over you."

Damien shook his head again. "I wasn't this popular last time I came over here."

"Times change dude." Kenny paused. "And, as we were on the topic of boyfriends and blonde angels, have you seen Pip or Butters today?"

"Pip was passed out in the snow, and I believe it was Butters who went to help him, along with some Tweek." Damien replied, and he frowned slightly. Kenny looked at his face closely, before a grin spread across his features.

"Aw, dude, you're worried!" he cooed, earning a smouldering hole in the arm of his jacket. "Aw that's my good hoodie! Damn you."

"I'm already damned." Damien retorted.

"You should go over and see him. I'm going by to pick up Buttercup, and I'd guess Craig's going to pick up Tweek. You could talk to him then."

"Yeah." Damien nodded, resolving to go straight to Pip's house after school – as soon as he found out his address.

-X-

Pip stirred and made a small noise of protest as his blankets were removed, but jolted instantly awake when he felt someone fiddling with the buttons of his jacket.

"Ah- ah!" he swatted at the hand and tried to get into a sitting position. He blinked his eyes at the light to get them to focus – when he did Butters and Tweek were stood to one side, a grown man on the other, with a stethoscope around his neck.

"Stay lying down Pip. I'm not going to hurt you." Instructed the man, presumably the doctor he'd heard about earlier.

"Sorry sir, you startled me." He whispered in apology. The doctor nodded, then held out the stethoscope and gestured by way of asking for permission to proceed. Pip nodded.

The doctor didn't take off his shirt fully, just undid a few buttons and poked his ice-cold stethoscope inside to listen to his breathing and heart.

"You're wheezing quite a bit." He noted, and Pip made a small noise that was supposed to sound good-humoured.

"I think I had a cold and it went to my chest. I do have quite a weak chest – English defect." He attempted a laugh again, and it deteriorated into feeble coughing.

The doctor finished his examination and straightened up.

"I don't think it's too serious – a slight chest infection and fever." He looked over at Pip "I think you are working too hard young man, and putting too much strain on yourself."

Pip noticed Butters looking at Tweek, and they exchanged a look that seemed to say 'We told him so'.

"I suggest you take a week or two off of school, and any work you have"

"But sir! I have to work, to earn money for my food and bills!"

"Do your parents not work?" the doctor looked puzzled. Pip flinched slightly, but his voice was calm as he replied.

"My parents are dead back in England, sir, they have been since I was born. My foster parents died in one of the freak accidents that happen here so often." He explained. The doctor apologised for bringing up such a sensitive subject unknowingly.

"But still..." he continued "a week off. Your friends here can help you, can't you boys?"

Butters and Tweek nodded enthusiastically. The doctor turned to leave, bidding them farewell and advising Pip change his clothes – he was still wearing the damp ones he'd been found in.

"We'll leave you to change, and get some more rest. We'll be downstairs, so call us if you need us." Butters said. Pip nodded and his friends walked out of the room. The Brit changed into some warm, thick pyjamas, picked up his old, much-read book 'Oliver' and lay back in bed, reading until he fell asleep.

Pip slept and woke at intervals, reading whenever he was awake. Butters and Tweek came up to check on him every now and then – sometimes they brought a cup of tea, and at around noon Butters gave him some sort of chicken soup that tasted absolutely delicious.

At half three, Pip was sat up slightly, reading, when Butters emerged.

"Someone's c-come to visit you..." he said, though he looked slightly wary and Pip picked up on the stutter that only usually made itself present if Butters was scared or nervous. Pip smiled kindly and bid the guest enter.

Although he hadn't seen the boy who stepped into the room for over 8 years, Pip recognised him at once.

"D-Damien?" he faltered, and promptly fainted.

-X-

_Words: 3,084_

_A/N: This is practically a super-long one-shot, that I'm splitting up. CAUSE I FEEL LIKE IT, SO NYAH :P_

_Ahem. So... I am very, very into Dip atm! And I've never really written a Dip fic where I torture Pip too much. I've made him ill before. I think this is because the books I've read by Charles Dickens (that being Great Expectations and Oliver Twist) that centre on orphaned children make them ill at some point. Like, super ill. Obviously Victorian children were extremely susceptible to fevers. And I have a horrible cough, so I feel horrible at the moment. But I don't get a week off school like this lucky bugger does XD_

_I always make Pip live on his own. I think that at some point I'll write a fic where his adoptive parents are in it, but for now, he is simply very good at looking after himself. Deal with it._

_N'aww at Damien everyone! 3_

_Interesting fact: because I do stuff like this, I've written 'Damien' in code on my hand, and it's pissing off my friends cause I won't tell them what it means XD _

_232614182213 – try and figure out that code, now you know what it spells ;)_


	2. Chapter 2 ::Damien::

**In Sickness and In Health**

**Chapter 2: Damien**

_A/N: Ha, the chapter title sucks. I couldn't think of a better one. If you can, tell me in a review XD  
Well done to __**amzzz123 **__for guessing the code. My friend's couldn't, so I just told them :P  
Hope you all enjoy this chapter! _

_Warnings: Mild swearing (I think – just in case there is XD)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Pip or Damien, or the show South Park. Trey and Matt do (well, if I was gonna be a bitch about copyright, Damien belongs to the author/s of the Omen books and Pip belongs to Charles Dickens, so...). If I could own them, I would be rich, and famous, but I'm not._

=X=

**-DAMIEN-**

Well, that really didn't turn out how I'd hoped it would.

As soon as Pip had fainted, Butters and Tweek had pushed past me to check on him. I myself, jumped forward, though not as far or fast. Once we had determined that he was fine, and they had fussed over him for a minute, Butters stormed over and pointed downstairs, saying I had 'some things to explain'.

So I was sat there, trying not to look at the small cross I didn't know he had on his wall. I was fiddling with the charm attached to the leather pocket of my iPhone, the inverted cross and upside-down pentagram clinking together in the silence filling the room. I had to say, Butters didn't look as confident as he did upstairs, but he didn't seem confident when I first arrived.

A knock on the door made all three of us look up, and Tweek yelled in surprise.

"It's just us!" I heard the familiar voice of Kenny call through the letterbox, and Butters jumped up to open the door. We all walked out to greet Kenny and Craig, who I correctly assumed was the other person Kenny had been referring too. The small blondes who I'd been sat with for the last 5 minutes practically jumped on their boyfriends.

Kenny looked up at me over Butters shoulder as he received a small kiss.

"Don't you wish you had this?" he asked, wriggling his eyebrows. I narrowed my eyes.

"If your little boyfriend wasn't stood there, and I didn't know you'd get pissed at me if I accidently killed him, I'd have barbequed you for that." I threatened. Butters looked back, alarmed.

"You're rather flame-happy, aren't you?" Craig commented. I shrugged.

"Well let's get in then. I've never seen the inside of Pip's house before." Kenny grinned, wrapping an arm around Butters' shoulder and steering them both inside. When he caught sight of the cross, he snorted.

"Betcha like that huh?" he asked, gesturing. Stupidly, I actually looked up to see what he'd gestured at, and winced at the pain in my head. He burst out laughing when he saw that, and that time I actually shot a small flame at his head.

"Dickhead." I muttered, before seating myself on the couch again. He simply grinned, and patted out the strands of hair that had caught on fire.

"So how'd the happy reunion go?"

"Well, he recognised me."

"But...?"

"Then he fainted."

"Oh." Kenny laughed "That didn't turn out how you wanted it to then, huh?"

"No, not really." I scowled at Kenny as way of a warning. He grinned and made a surrendering gesture.

"What on Earth are you grinning about Kenny?"

Kenny tapped his nose and winked. Craig flipped him off, and announced he was leaving with Tweek. Tweek told Butters to tell Pip to get better soon, and left with his dark-haired boyfriend.

"Are you coming home then Buttercup?" Kenny asked, wrapping his arms around Butters' shoulders and pulling him close.

"W-well I gotta look after Pip Kenny."

"Damien's got it." Kenny shrugged, sending me a smirk that Butters couldn't see.

"Yeah, I'll stay. I can't go home anyway, I was gonna ask if I could crash with Kenny, but seeing how Pip needs someone here and you two are going back to his place..." I coughed meaningfully, Kenny grinned and I'm sure Butters went slightly pink "So I'll stay and look after Pip. No big deal."

Butters looked reluctant, but with Kenny's persuading eventually gave in. They walked out together, and I was alone in the house with an unconscious Pip. I sat in silence, and made a few flames dance around my hand, something I always do when I'm thinking.

Mainly, I was thinking about Pip, his forgiving nature and the question of if he'd forgive me or not. I could see, in all honesty, why he wouldn't. I mean, I set him on fire and set the demons of Hell on him to gain the friendship of a couple of assholes. And now I knew that all I'd needed to do was hang around till my voice broke and act like... well, the son of Satan, which I'm pretty good at considering I AM the son of Satan.

I heard a noise from upstairs, and jolted away from my thoughts instantly. It sounded like coughing and... crying? I know Kenny made me sound like I was a total love-sick love-bird going all gooey and mushy and shit, but I wasn't. As much as yes, I wanted Pip for myself, I wasn't so head over heels that I was going to change dramatically.

Plus, I had no idea how to deal with someone crying.

I headed upstairs, pretty much dreading it all the way.

**-PIP-**

I came around to an empty room. After sorting through various jumbled thoughts I managed to recollect what had happened; Damien had come over, and I'd fainted.

I was rather confused about my feelings about this; seven years was a long time to abandon someone. And granted, he sped up my introductions to Tweek and Butters, but I am quite sure I would have met them at some point. They had told me before they always used to talk about approaching me but being scared of their friend's reactions, seeing as it was mostly their friends who picked on me, never did.

I had missed Damien – him being my first real friend I had grown attached to him rather quickly. And though I hated to admit it, I had considered what would have happened if he had stayed – Tweek dating Craig, who was his best friend, and Butters dating Kenny, who occupied the same relationship before their dating, I couldn't help wondering if me and Damien would ever had ended up like they had. It wasn't like I terribly objected to... him, in particular. But I didn't know him well enough now and, to be honest, he was rather an asshole. He was like Craig – tough, bad-boy and attractive. I wondered why he had come by to see me in the first place. Maybe he was planning on warning me to stay away from him. That upset me, and despite myself I felt my eyes starting to water.

I heaved a deep sigh, which set off my coughing, aggravating my rather sore ribs. I was gasping for breath, my head was pounding and my chest hurt. Black clouded around my vision and I started panicking. I couldn't cry out for help at all, not that anyone could really help me, but I was alone and it was silent – either Butters or Tweek had either been in my bedroom or audible from downstairs for the whole day, and their absences made me think I was alone in my house. Frankly, it scared me.

Then the door opened, and through my streaming eyes I could see a dark silhouette. It wasn't Butters or Tweek – it was too tall, the clothing was too dark, they were too silent. The figure moved to my side, and sat next to me, patting and rubbing my back awkwardly. Though it really didn't do much to help, knowing there was someone there calmed me, and the coughing fit passed as I started to breathe easier. Trying desperately to recover some composure, I dabbed at my eyes and let myself calm down fully, careful not to start hyperventilating.

I looked up at the figure, whose extremely warm hand was still placed on my back, and jumped when I recognised it as Damien. I shifted away slightly, rather surprised and slightly scared, and the hand dropped and retreated as Damien stood.

"Th-thank you Damien." I managed.

"It's okay." He mumbled. "You want some... water or... something?" he made a kind of face, like a grimace or cringe.

"Some water would be splendid, if you don't mind." I nodded. As he headed out the door, he turned back.

"Do you mind if I like... cover up that cross on your wall? It's giving me a headache, and staring down is hurting my neck." He made another face.

"Terribly sorry. You can put it in a drawer if you wish."

"Uh... thanks." He mumbled, then disappeared downstairs again.

**-NORMAL-**

When Damien returned Pip was laid back on his pillows, his duvet pulled up under his arms, his hands held gently together in front of him, as was his habit. They way he held his hands was a trait that made him look both gentle and polite, and he was both. In fact, the more Damien looked at Pip and how he held himself, what he wore, how he moved and certain little habits – those ones that everyone has, but you don't notice until someone points it out – the more he realised how much his look fit exactly to his personality.

Pip's build was small and slight, and he seemed one of those naturally stick-thin people. It also made him seem scrawny and weak, but if you knew just how to truly infuriate him then he could throw a damn good punch – or ball, as Damien had been told. His skin was pale and unmarred by any sort of pock marks or spots; just a few barely-noticeable freckles which made him seem all the more innocent and untouched.

His blonde hair was straight-cut and long for a boy, reaching halfway down his neck and ending midway between his shoulders and ears. Not only was it always impeccably kept, neat and glossy, framing his face with beautiful golden strands, but one of his habits was brushing it behind one ear in a rather feminine way, only to shake it free and hang his head forward to let it cover his face, making him look extremely shy.

Another habit he had that factored into the shy part of his personality was his habit of talking quietly if you were a stranger or new acquaintance. Despite this he always looked you straight in the eyes, even if his head was tilted down so he was looking up through his lashes, his own sparkling like a diamond crystal in sunlight, a small polite smile on his lips, contrasting shy with strange confidence. And he_ was_ confident – when you got to know him. Damien guessed this was almost like a defence mechanism.

"Here's that water." Damien said after standing awkwardly in the doorway for a minute. Pip gave a small smile but remained silent other than a quiet 'thank you' when the glass was placed in his hand.

There was an extremely awkward silence in which Pip sipped delicately at his water and Damien stood, hands in pockets, kicking his left heel with his right foot and looking around Pip's blue-and-white bedroom. The walls were a pastel-ish sky blue, and even had a small wispy cloud pattern around the top. The carpet was also blue, and there were fluffy white rugs on either side of the bed. A white-painted bookcase stood in the corner, a white desk with a small laptop in another. Damien grimaced slightly.

"Are you okay Damien?" Pip asked quietly. Damien lifted one corner of his mouth and made a small snorting sound.

"Your bedroom's all sky like... it's weird, like being on a cloud." Another face "Then that made me think of Heaven." He scoffed, and looked back at Pip, who nodded thoughtfully and lifted his glass to his lips again. There was another minute of silence, before Damien announced he was going downstairs, and that Pip just needed to call if he needed anything.

As soon as Damien had exited the room, Pip heaved a deep sigh, dropping his happy facade. He set the glass down, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. After a moment of sitting with his head in his hands, the Brit decided to pack in for the night, and sleep.

Damien yawned, and checked the downstairs clock. It read 5:30. It wasn't particularly late, but it had been a long, rather tiring day. The noirette walked over to the large rucksack of belongings he'd brought along with him – like he had mentioned, he had been planning on staying at Kenny's for a week or so, until his father finally gave in and lent him the money to buy his own apartment or house – whichever he felt like. Until then, however, he was temporarily homeless, with the exception of Hell; but he really didn't want to go back and live with his father and whichever fuck-buddy was currently staying over. He'd lived through 16 years of that and had enough of it.

After setting up the sofa with a comfortable pillow and thin black duvet, Damien changed into some loose black pyjama bottoms and lay down in the darkness, before drifting off to sleep.

=X=

_Words: 2,137_

_A/N: It's shorter than the last one, but I wanted to update ASAP!_

_Last chapter I said (or implied) Pip was 15, and he'd be 16 in a year. It's not true XD He's already 16, and he's waiting until he's 18. I didn't work that bit out very well. That also means that Damien's been gone for 8 years, not 7. I'll go back and change that soon. I'm still trying to figure out dates and times (like, obsessively calculating) and figuring out ages... I've decided that, for now, it's sometime in late November. That makes everyone else 16 too (with a quick date-check in my head – I know some of the characters' birthdays). Kay? Good._

_Uhh... Oh yeah! Please review if you like it (even if you don't – give me tips!) I'd appreciate it, I love getting reviews!_

_Cya soon!_

_Jem_


	3. Chapter 3 ::Long Day::

**In Sickness and In Health**

_A/N: I do believe I haven't thanked any of my reviewers yet! Terribly sorry. So now, thank you to: ____, __**Dani Dreadful**__, __**Bambi4ever**__, __**RemmyBlack**__, __**amzzz123**__, __**CaffinatedAddict**__, __**RisaShootingStar**__, __**SiremusStyle**__ and __**phantom theif C.A.T**__ for reviewing! They make me very very happy =)_

_Uh, let's see..._

_**Warnings:**__ Swearing._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not, unfortunately, own South Park. Then again, if I did, it wouldn't be the South Park we all know and love. In fact, I could well have turned it into an anime, or that sort of style. All good in fan-art, but... don't we all prefer our little construction-paper boys? Yes, we do, and if you don't, you're fucking crazy. So, enjoy this story, and thanks to Trey and Matt for being geniuses and making the wonderful show we are all inspired by (and which gives at least a little joy to my life)!_

**Chapter 3: Long Day**

A knock on the door the next day woke Damien. It was fifteen minutes to school – but for now, answering the door was the most important thing.

Still yawning and considerably pissed that he'd been woken up, the Antichrist walked to the front door, still dressed in only the loose black pyjama bottoms.

"Well, what were YOU up to last night then, eh Damien?" the familiar cheeky voice of Kenny McCormick greeted him, along with the gust of freezing cold wind. Damien stopped rubbing his eyes and glared daggers at the rugged blonde, wrapped up in the slightly-scorched hoodie from the previous day. Next to him was Butters, and the small blonde elbowed his boyfriend while still looking at Damien in a way that bordered on a glare.

"Fucking sleeping, 'til you showed up." The demon boy growled. "What do you want?"

"Well..." Kenny pulled Butters past Damien and into the hallway, leaving Damien to shut the door. He continued when they reached the living room, sitting opposite to the sofa which still had Damien's covers on it. "We worked out how to look after Pip. A rota, so to speak. Today, Friday, Butters will look after Pip, while me, you and Tweek go to school. You take over at 4 every day. Weekend, both Butters and Tweek will be here on and off, then back to the rota for Monday – Tweek, Butters, Tweek, Butters and etcetera."

"Okay." Damien nodded. "I'll go upstairs to get changed – and I'll check on Pip while I'm up there."

Damien stood and, taking his bag with him, ascended the stairs. After changing into black skinnies, converses and a t-shirt with a bleeding pentagram motif on, he walked into Pip's room.

The ill blonde was curled up, covers and blankets wrapped tight around him, pillows that had been used to prop him up during the previous day scattered and bordering him on all sides. He looked quite content – warm, comfortable, happy. Despite himself, Damien allowed himself one moment of weakness – he reached out a warm hand to cup Pip's face, gently brushing the golden blonde hair out of his angelic face. The noirette almost grimaced at his own choice of words, but it was true – Pip was extremely angelic. Maybe it was that innocence that held some of his fascination with the Brit. How someone so fragile could stand so strong, someone so badly treated could treat those who tormented him so kindly.

He was broken from his thoughts when Pip murmured, and nudged ever-so-slightly into the hand on his cheek. His lips twitched into a small smile, and he settled again, drawing the duvet up to his nose. Damien himself almost smiled, but caught himself and walked away. He closed the door behind him and, with his acute hearing, barely caught a soft whisper from the sleeping boy.

"Dami..."

=X=

"He's still asleep." Damien reported. Butters, who had a small mug of tea, nodded and continued to sip the hot drink. Kenny grinned, and stood up. He bent down to peck Butters on the cheek, and whispered a goodbye which caused the platinum-blonde to squeak and bat his boyfriend's arm playfully. Kenny's grin simply got wider, and he and Damien left out the front door on their way to school.

Butters smiled after his boyfriend; Kenny's upbeat attitude always brought a smile to his face. Looking around, he decided to tidy up a bit – Damien's duvet was still hung on the sofa. It took the small blonde about ten minutes to fold it up, and tidy around. He was about to sit down, when he heard a thud from upstairs. Instantly worried, he ran up the stairs to Pip's bedroom.

When he opened the door, he saw Pip fallen over on the floor.

"Are you okay Pip?" he asked.

The Brit looked up at him from the floor, and gave a short laugh.

"Yes Butters. My legs gave way. A day without standing will do that to you." Pip smiled, using the bed to hoist himself back up and sit on the edge. He rubbed his knees, but still smiled up at Butters. Butters couldn't help but smile back.

"Okay. Do you want anything?"

"If you leave me for a moment, so I can change, I'll come downstairs. I'd like to stretch my legs a bit, change the scenery." Pip laughed, and deteriorated into coughing, reminding Butters that he wasn't quite as well as he pretended.

"I'll get your antibiotics ready then, and some breakfast. Crumpets and tea okay?"

"Perfect." Pip managed, gasping slightly but smiling all the same. Butters smiled, nodded, and left the room.

Pip waited for a minute before he dropped his smile. He slowed his breathing, and rubbed his knees again, wincing. He briefly patted over himself, making sure he hadn't done any damage, before he rose slowly and, after assuring his balance, staggering over to his dresser.

=X=

"Is the tea ready?" Pip smiled as he leant against his kitchen archway. Butters turned from the kettle, and smiled good-naturedly.

"Almost." Butters nodded, and swooped over to the toaster at the precise moment the crumpets popped out, and swiftly buttered them and set them on the table.

"You're extremely good around the kitchen Butters." Pip complimented, quickly swallowing his medication with a grimace before sitting down on one of the chairs. Butters joined him within a few seconds, cups of tea in hand.

"I have to be. I'm expected to be able to make my own meals, especially if I'm planning on not being with the family at mealtimes. Also, if my parents have guests I often have to cook for them." Butters smiled. "I'm the family chef. I do baking too – sometimes I do fundraisers by selling my cakes and cookies and brownies, or I give them to family and friends, or keep them for treats. I usually have to give a certain amount to my parents as well; they pay for the ingredients so I give them some of the product."

"I didn't think anyone else liked cooking!" Pip smiled. "Obviously I have to make my own meals, but the occasional bit of British-recipe shortcake is lovely. Homemade cooking is always the best."

"We should cook together sometimes – share tips and recipes." Butters laughed, and Pip agreed enthusiastically.

The two boys sat and talked for a long time; long after the crumpets had gone, and a considerable amount of tea had been consumed. Pip genuinely enjoyed Butters' company, and talking of various insignificant topics, simply relishing the good company they kept. Butters was a naturally good-spirited and happy person, as was Pip; they shared interests and experiences and that was what made them such good friends – their ability to understand and empathise with each other.

"Did you sleep well last night then?" Butters chirped. Pip went slightly pink.

"Yes. You?" Butters also went slightly pink, and the two blonde laughed together.

"I'm just... God, so confused." Pip confessed, looking up at Butters.

"Gee, why?" Butters tilted his head to one side – a habit they both shared that made them both look like inquisitive puppies.

"Damien." Pip sighed.

"Why is Damien confusing you?"

"He was my first friend; you know, back before we ever talked. He was my first, only, best friend. I know he was only here for a day but... I just really attached to him. He treated me the best I'd ever been treated before; and he wasn't even that nice back then. And then when he set me on fire, and left... it really hurt. I did some stupid things from loneliness. And even when you guys became my friends, I still missed him."

Butters nodded, showing he was still listening.

"But I still feel hurt. I don't feel like I can just forgive him, without... an expression of apology, or something else. I want to know he actually _wants_ to be my friend." Pip sighed, and smiled up at Butters; it wasn't a happy smile, instead rather sad. "Which means I'm going to be waiting a long time."

Butters sighed too.

"You know what Pip?" Pip looked up. "My first thoughts are that you are too good for him; that he is not a nice enough person for you. That he'll be bad for you. But honestly; if he means that much to you, as a friend, you just need to get to know him again." Butters patted his shoulder. "Just be friends; then see where it takes you. Anything could happen."

"Thanks Butters." Pip smiled, briefly hugging his friend. "I knew you could help."

"Glad to, Pip." Butters grinned.

The two boys finally got up and out of the kitchen. Pip briefly checked the cupboards.

"Oh bother. I'm almost out of sugar and bread – I need more waffles and crumpets too. I'm going to have to go to the shop..."

"You can't, you are in no fit state to go outside into the snow." Butters reprimanded.

"But..."

"I'll go." Butters said, looking sternly up at Pip. Although the other blonde was about an inch taller than him, his tone of voice seemed to convince Pip to back down. The Brit nodded, and retreated to the couch. Butters smiled at him, and patted his shoulder. Pip smiled weakly back, and leant heavily against the arm of the settee, breathing slightly hard.

"Rest a bit Pip. Too much moving isn't too good for your chest at the moment. You are quite badly ill. Relax, and laze around."

"But then I feel useless and lazy."

"You work too hard." Butters wagged his finger in a slightly joking matter. "Take this chance to get some well earned time off. No worries, no work..."

"No pressure." Pip added. Butters and Pip both giggled at what they both knew would be their other friend's input.

"Exactly. _Rest_." Butters emphasized, grabbing the keys before walking out the door.

=X=

When Butters returned, Pip was dozing lightly on the sofa, in front of the TV which was playing some gardening programme quietly. Butters smiled and after setting down the shopping in the kitchen ran upstairs to grab a thin blue blanket, and tucked it around the sleeping boy.

It was 11:30, so Butters spent a while packing the food away; he could see Pip liked things neat, and although he doubted that Pip was a complete neat freak that would ground and smack him for not putting things away properly, for now there was time to make everything immaculate. He did the washing up, and more general cleaning. Pip's house was extremely neat, so there wasn't much major cleaning to do. After just half an hour, Butters decided to have some lunch.

Pip was still asleep; the Brit was obviously, and understandably, exhausted. Despite how well he pretended to be, it was quite obvious he was ill. He had bags under his eyes, and seemed too thin, borderline anorexic even. His normally beautifully pale skin was almost white and his bright hazel eyes always seemed dark and worried, and through his smile there was always sadness in them.

Butters could tell Pip had some problems, but refused help. He wasn't proud, or arrogant; he simply hated to trouble people, and wanted desperately to prove he could handle himself.

Butters jumped as his phone rang, and hurriedly answered it and rushed up to one of the spare bedrooms.

"Hello?"

"Hey Buttercup." A familiar voice purred from the other end.

"Hiya Ken."

"How're you? How's Pip?"

"I'm okay. Pip's sleeping – poor guy looks exhausted. How are you?"

"I'm good babe. Listen, Tweek and Craig are coming over after school, but me and Damien need to discuss some stuff. I'll come over to collect you at around 5. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine."

"Kenny!" Butters heard Damien's voice, dimmed by distance from the phone's microphone "What's next lesson?"

"Religious." He heard his boyfriend reply. He could just imagine the grin on his face.

"Oh. Well then, I'll meet you behind the school when you're finished."

"Kenny, I though you weren't going to skip classes!" Butters scolded.

"Yeah, but it's religious. It'll be fine, for this lesson."

"Okay. But you'll attend the next one, y'hear?"

"Sure. Tell Pip Damien sends his love, and hopes he gets better soon."

"MCCORMICK!"

"Okay okay. See ya later Buttercup." Kenny laughed.

"Bye bye Ken." Butters heard Kenny laughing before the call ended, and couldn't help chuckling. Damien and Kenny seemed good friends, and the blonde knew his cheeky boyfriend loved to wind up the Antichrist. He shook his head, and walked downstairs again.

=X=

Kenny leant up against the wall behind the school, and grinned at Damien, who was slightly red from anger.

"Hey dude, light this twig on fire." Kenny held up a stick, pointing it at the noirette.

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Damien asked, also slumping against the wall.

"Cause you can, dude."

Damien rolled his eyes, but the end of the stick lit all the same, and Kenny started examining it.

"Is this like, magic fire or summin? Special Hell-fire?"

"No, it's regular fire. But I can control any and all fire, if I really wanted." The Antichrist stared at the flame at the tip, and it lifted off the stick and he made it dance around their heads, before setting it back on the twig while Kenny stared in awe.

"Dude! Sweet!" Kenny laughed. "Can you levitate things?"

"Could if I wanted to. Dad needs to teach me how, but I don't feel like learning at the moment."

"Would it be hard?"

"Might take a lot of concentration at first."

"Any limits?"

"Not really, as far as I know. I could levitate myself, you, a 5-ton truck... anything, I think. Like I said, I haven't learnt yet, so I wouldn't know. I'd guess I couldn't touch anything holy – anything inside a church or extremely holy I probably won't have any effect on."

"So what, do you have like a Hell school?" Kenny was asking questions at random, passing time until he could find the perfect moment to bring up Pip. As much as he loved winding the Antichrist up, he did know it was a rather touchy subject and that Damien was actually having a hard time with it. As a friend, he had to be there to help him, not aggravate him.

"My Dad tutors me on some things. Sometimes it's the head demon, or my Uncle Lucifer. I have to learn how to run Hell, should I ever need to inherit the crown which I could well do at some point. I need to learn how to use and control my powers, and how best to use them." Damien shrugged.

"Is it like magic?"

"I guess that's your term for it. To us, it's simply my powers."

"What else could you learn to do?"

"I'm learning to possess people, control them, manipulate them, read minds and basic, one-sided telepathy."

"Wow." Kenny stared at Damien. "You're like Harry Potter or something."

"It's part of being the antichrist. Telepathy is also useful for receiving orders or messages from Dad, and implanting thoughts and doubts."

"Could you read my mind, right now?"

"If I concentrated. Eventually it'll be easy, and I'll be able to do that and concentrate on something else at the same time. I could walk through your mind, or that basic sort of concept, and find what I wanted to know." Damien shrugged, eyeing Kenny suspiciously.

"Awesome. Can you time travel?"

"I'm not Doctor Who."

"Who?"

"You're American, you wouldn't know." Damien smirked slightly. "But no."

Kenny looked confused, and Damien made a gesture to tell him it didn't matter. Kenny nodded, and the boys lapsed into silence. Damien stared at Kenny intently, to the point the blonde started to get uncomfortable.

"Uh..."

"I'm not gonna talk about Pip, if that's where you're trying to lead the conversation."

Just as Kenny was about to say something, Christophe appeared around the corner, and the accident-prone boy caught himself.

"Bonjour. I see you 'ad ze right idea before class started." The French boy greeted, sitting down beside Damien, so the noirette was between both of the other boys.

"Why did you bother going?"

"I was dragged. Zen ze teacher set off about God and I just left." Christophe shrugged.

"Oh Christianity is our topic this half-term, huh?" Kenny chuckled. "I think next lesson she'll probably start trying to scare us into being good with all sorts of Hell stuff. Then we'll go as witnesses and protest unfairness."

"Sure." Damien nodded.

"D'ya reckon any of the teachers remember about you being the Antichrist?"

"No idea. But I should probably remain inconspicuous."

"Look inco-what now?"

"Unnoticed."Christophe explained. "Does either of you 'ave a lighter? My mozer confiscated mine when she took my cigarettes."

"The Mole, brilliant mercenary and most feared boy in South Park High with the possible exception of Damien, having his _lighter _and _cigarettes_ confiscated by his _mother_?" Kenny laughed.

"Eet was let 'er do zat, or keel 'er, or 'ave a lecture about somezing religious. She makes everyzing religious." Christophe grimaced.

"Why do you need a lighter if you have no cigarettes?"

"I bought some, zen I stole some ozers." The brunette took out a cigarette, and looked around. "So?"

Damien held out his hand, and a flame light in his palm. Christophe lit his cigarette gratefully and put it to his lips.

"So..."

"Yeah, the question is 'so'. Like, 'so how do we spend this next hour?'" Kenny said. Damien shrugged, and Christophe just sat and smoked silently. Kenny sighed, and slumped further down the wall.

It was going to be a long day.

=X=

**Words: 2,950**

_A/N: GAH! I'm soo sorry for not updating. It's kinda a filler chapter, just to pass the day. Don't worry, I have a plot, and I am planning something big to happen soon. Next chapter or the chapter after that, I think, at the latest. I don't want the story to drag too much._

_I'm sorry this chapter sucked, I just thought you guys deserved an update. This is also kinda important for Pip and Damien's relationship build. But the ending sucked, because I added conversation, and I didn't want the dialogue to be too long and pointless, and I couldn't think how to write the rest of the day,and I went away on holiday to Whitby between writing, and my inspiration went poof. I'm sorry._

_Well, I shall see you next chapter (oh, and all you non-Brits who may-or-may-not be wondering about that obscure Doctor Who reference I made, search it. It's a brilliant program. And if you're wondering, I always make Damien have English origins, because in the first 'Omen' film, he and his parents live in London. So he knows about British programs. Meh, my story, so suck it XD)_

_Goodbye_

_Jem_

_P.S: I just added 'meh' to my Word dictionary, because 'meh' IS a word to me XD_

_Also: I'm super happy because I now own the first three Omen books *happy dance* Okay, I'll shut up now. Bye._


	4. Chapter 4 ::Togetherness::

**In Sickness and In Health **

**Chapter 4 – Togetherness**

_A/N: Halloa! Welcome to chapter four of In Sickness and In Health! This is the furthest I've ever been with any chaptered story anywhere any when. I've written more for this one story than I did for the six-chapter sim-story I did like a year ago. _

_Thank you to my reviewers for the last chapter: ____, __**AzureIzumi**__ and __**Dani Dreadful**__! I love getting reviews, especially nice ones, and I have a habit of going 'Yay!' when I check my mail on my iPhone in the morning (in school as well XD)then my friends kinda stare at me... but makes me happy all the same._

_ALSO! I don't mention it much in the story (cause there's only one or two ways to say it, and otherwise it sounds repetitive) but always assume Pip coughs quite a bit, because he is ill. Also presume he looks slightly ill. He's also rather worn out, as you always are when you're ill. Pip may sound all better, but remember he isn't XD  
Just wanted to say that, so you don't all wonder 'so what, is he miraculously better?'._

_Warnings: Swearing, I'm sure. _

_Disclaimer: I shall repeat again: unless Pip and Damien are in every scene holding hands and being super cute together, or Craig and Tweek make regular appearances together, or Kenny starts following after Butters, I'm afraid I do not own South Park, and I doubt I ever will, but we can all dream, right? Until that time, however, the awesome Trey and Matt own South Park and the characters in it. REMEMBER THAT! _

=X=

A small yawn made Butters look up from his book. He smiled as Pip stretched, and sat up carefully.

"Oh! How long have I been asleep?" Pip asked, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

"Around three hours." Butters replied.

"Terribly sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You need the rest."

"It's rude to fall asleep when one has a guest." Pip insisted with a small frown.

"Not if you're ill." Butters tutted, wagging a finger jokingly. Pip smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I'm hungry." He announced, wobbling on his feet for a second before sticking his tongue out at Butters and walking through to the kitchen. Butters laughed and followed.

"Would you be kind enough to make some tea, Butters?" the Brit asked, looking through the cupboards.

"Certainly."

The kitchen was quiet, except for Pip's occasional cough, as the boys busied themselves.

"Are you and Tweek sure you are okay with staying with me? I don't want you to get ill as well."

"Don't worry about it Pip. It's no trouble for us. Honestly." Butters placed a hand on Pip's shoulder. The English blonde looked at him, and their eyes locked for a second, before Pip nodded and smiled.

"I'm sorry, I must seem so ungrateful, but... I want to prove I can look after myself, you know? Everyone thinks I'm weak, and helpless, but I'm not and I want to show them that."

"We don't think you're weak and helpless. You are probably one of the strongest people I know. But if you ever need help, don't be afraid to ask for it." Butters smiled, and the boys embraced briefly.

Soon the serious atmosphere dissolved, and Pip and Butters were joking and laughing. Pip's cough was aggravated by the action of laughing, but he didn't seem to care. Time flew by, and suddenly there was a knock at the door.

"Oh! That'll be Tweek and Craig, I bet." Butters chirped, jumping up out of his seat. Sure enough, he returned with the jittery blonde and his stoic boyfriend.

"Hello Tweek. Hello Craig." Pip smiled.

"H-hi Pip. How're –nngh- you?" Tweek stuttered out.

"I'm okay. What have I missed today?"

"Nothing but Stan and them being assholes." Craig muttered. Tweek nudged him.

"When are they not?" Pip joked, and Craig chuckled.

"Well said." He nodded. He sat down, with Tweek curled into his side, and looked around. "Nice place. Must be expensive."

"I manage to pay for it." Pip nodded, though he frowned slightly. "It's why I work extra hours sometimes."

**=PIP=**

The conversation lasted for some time. Tweek filled me and Butters in on a few of the lessons we'd missed, and even Craig was happy to join in the conversation; it seemed that away from public places and his friends he was actually a humorous and openly talkative person. I had to say, he was a perfectly nice person to be around – as long as you weren't on his bad side for whatever reason.

"Well, we should be leaving now. See you soon Butters, Pip." Craig said eventually, standing up with Tweek at his side.

"I-I'll come by s-sometime to –nngh- tomorrow." Tweek nodded, and I waved them out of the door.

"I think I'm going to go and have a shower, okay Butters?"

"Yeah. See you tomorrow Pip." Butters smiled at me. I waved, and walked up the stairs.

As soon as I was in the bathroom, I turned the shower on to warm up the water, and undressed quickly. As much as I tried to avoid my reflection, I couldn't; and there, in the mirror, I was, battered, bruised, scarred and thin. It was embarrassing, and I was ashamed.

I diverted my eyes, and stepped into the warm stream of water, letting it run over my bruised ribcage and wash the cover-up from my neck. I closed my eyes, and sighed, shrinking into myself and letting the water wash away my tears.

**=DAMIEN=**

After a long and boring day of lessons and a rather aggravating conversation with Kenny, I was well ready to get back to Pip's place, relax, and maybe try talking to him; if I was to make any sort of progress with him, the first stage was talk.

"Come on then Buttercup. See you tomorrow Damien." Kenny called from the door. His little blonde hurried past me.

"Pip's upstairs; he went to have a shower." He said as he passed. I nodded, and raised a hand in their general direction as a way of goodbye.

As soon as I heard the door close behind me, I decided to go and check on Pip, make sure he hadn't fainted or something, or whether he was out of the shower.

I let out an involuntary gasp at the sight that met my eyes when I reached the landing.

**=PIP=**

After thoroughly shampooing my hair, and simply luxuriating in the warmth of the running water, I decided it was probably time to get out. I wrapped my hair in a towel, and put another one around my waist; after a few minutes searching for my bathrobe I gave up, cursing myself for forgetting it. I was praying to God that nobody would see me as I passed from this room to mine, because that would bring up a whole load of questions I didn't want to discuss. I braced myself, and attempted a fast scuttle over the landing, praying for no-one to be there on a chance, for my luck to be good.

But of course, since when has my luck been good?

**=DAMIEN=**

"Pip..."

The small blonde turned to me, hazel eyes wide in surprise. His hand flew to his neck, at the same time attempting to cover his torso. His mouth opened and closed a few times, before he managed to say something.

"D-Damien?" he spluttered. "Ah... I..."

By this time my eyes were probably crimson; I've been told that's what happens when I'm angry. I jumped up the last few steps, grabbed his arm gently – being careful to avoid the hand-print shaped bruise higher up – and pulled him into his room. He made small noises all the way, most of which seemed to be the first words of unfinished sentences.

"Damien, I..."

"Who did this?" I asked, forcing my voice to be calm. I sat beside him on his bed, and rested my head in my hands, hoping to hide my eyes; I had a feeling that, even if Pip didn't know the quirk, he'd easily be able to guess. There was silence.

"It doesn't matter." He whispered.

"Of course it matters. They hurt you." I growled.

"Most of these are old anyway..." he mumbled.

"But look at you!" I cried. "Your ribs are purple! You have scars everywhere. You have a fucking _handprint!_ They can't be that old."

"Two weeks." He said, and looked at me helplessly. I put my hand to a scar, below the left side of his ribcage.

"And how old are the oldest ones?"

"About 12 years." He sighed.

12 years? He hasn't been in America for 12 years. Which meant whatever family he had back in England had hurt him too. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, because his bottom lip began to tremble. His eyes were searching the floor, his breathing short and fast.

"No-one ever cared..." he whispered, seemingly to himself. Pip, the boy I remember as being upbeat, happy, having an always-look-one-the-bright-side attitude, sounding so broken and lost and hurt...

Being careful of his injuries, I pulled him close to me. He flinched slightly, but leant into me all the same. I briefly scanned over his current thoughts, and heard something I'd never thought possible regarding Pip.

He'd never felt loved.

I couldn't understand it. Pip was a wonderful, kind, generous, beautiful, thoughtful person who had almost no room for any sort of evil thought or action; how could he not have ever had one person who loved him before? How could the people who knew him treat him so cruelly? He believed no-one cared about him. He believed no-one loved him.

"I care." I whispered, smoothing his hair. His hand gripped lightly to my jumper, and he slowed his breathing, though he was wheezing slightly. Eventually he pulled up, and managed a small smile. I returned it.

"Could I get dressed and meet you downstairs?" he asked, blushing red. I smirked, and nodded, withdrawing my arms and leaving the room.

After a few minutes, he padded softly down the stairs. He sat beside me, and for a minute there was silence, in which I looked at him and he stared at his lap, shaking slightly.

"You cold?" I asked. He nodded slightly, looking up at me apologetically, though I don't know for what reason. I gestured for him to come closer. He tilted his head, and his cheeks tinged the lightest shade of rose.

"My body is a few degrees warmer than yours. You'll warm up quicker than with a fire." I grinned. He blinked, but nodded and shuffled closer. I wrapped my arms gently around him again.

"Mmm, you are warm." He sighed, pressing closer to me and tucking his head under my chin. I squeezed his shoulders, careful not to crush him or anything near that, and sighed.

"Are you going to tell me who did this?" I asked, knowing he knew what I meant.

"I don't like to be a tell-tale."

"You aren't a tell-tale. Is that why you don't tell anyone?"

"I don't want them to get into trouble. It's really not their fault. They just have some problems; maybe a bad upbringing, or anger management, or..." Pip said, and he sounded like he truly believed it.

"Pip. Don't defend them." I growled. "I want to know who did this."

"But you'll hurt them. I don't want anyone hurt."

I almost protested unfairness, though I knew I would have severely hurt or maimed the people responsible.

"But you're getting hurt."

"If one must be hurt for the protection of many, so be it; and I will be that one. Better someone never missed than someone greatly known." Pip whispered, almost like a recital. I pushed him upright, so I could look into his eyes.

"You do not deserve to be hurt for them; I have a good sense of judgement, for good reasons, and if anyone deserves to be punished through pain it is them. You are like an angel Pip; nothing but goodness, and purity of heart. And _I _have missed you." I told him, making sure he could see the sincerity in my eyes. There was a silence.

"I'll get the names out of Kenny, if you won't tell me." I tried; it was the truth, and I hoped it would encourage him to tell me.

"You do that. I don't want to say." He said. Honestly, he looked totally helpless. Pip's politeness sometimes held him back, and I was sure it would simply cause problems at some point. We looked at each other for a moment, before I pulled him back into my chest, and we encircled each other with our arms.

**=PIP=**

Damien was... nice. He was warm (in personality and in body) and gentle and sincere and caring. It was like some perfect dream. Like last night. For the whole night, in my dream, he had just... been there. Not always close, never crowding or forceful, just there, like a comforting presence. He occasionally got close, and we just sat together, or cuddled, and talked of light, insignificant things, and laughed, and just generally enjoyed each-others comforting presence. Then we just lay close, warm, and... that was it. But it was wonderful. And there we were, not in a dream, just laying together and being silent, but just enjoying the feeling of someone being there.

I think I fell asleep on him eventually, because I woke just long enough to notice a thin duvet over me, and shift slightly, before my mind was warm and blank again. Occasionally I heard him muttering, though whether I was hearing it through my sleep or if I was imagining it I couldn't tell, nor could I hear what he was saying.

And so, safe and warm, I slept...

**=X=**

-9:30-

Butters and Kenny were walking through South Park, holding hands and talking. They were headed to town to rent a movie or two, buy some sweets and snacks, and spend the afternoon watching a few films.

"Y'know, we should ask Pip if he wants to watch one with us – we could call in now, ask if there's a certain DVD he wants, then we could take it to him and maybe watch it sometime this weekend, like tomorrow if not today." Butters said as they neared Pip's house.

"Good idea. Hang on, I'll check through the window to see if they're there." Kenny grinned and ran up to the living-room window. The curtains were pulled, but there was a crack in the middle he could see through, so he peeped in.

Damien and Pip were cuddled on the sofa, asleep; Pip was laying with his back against the sofa-back, curled into Damien, who was on his back with one arm around Pip's shoulders, the other hand closed around Pip's, which was resting on his chest. Both seemed content and comfortable, and both had small smiles on their lips.

Kenny turned away from the window with a grin.

"I think they're still asleep at the moment Butters. We'll call in later." He said, and he and his small boyfriend continued on their original course.

**=DAMIEN=**

I first woke sometime in the early morning. I remember Pip falling asleep, and I remember levitating the duvet to cover us, I remember moving so he'd be more comfortable. At some point I considered taking him up to bed, eventually deciding against it because I didn't want to disturb him.

He looked so peaceful when he slept. His body relaxed; I never really noticed before, but he held himself rather stiffly, as if prepared to make a sudden dash. Occasionally he made small humming sounds, just small sounds that sounded content. Sometimes they sounded slightly like a laugh, and sometimes they sounded uncomfortable or scared.

"Don't worry." I whispered, squeezing him gently. His eyes flickered around beneath his closed lids, before he pressed closer and relaxed again, sighing and smiling.

Damn, he made me feel all stupid and soft.

But it didn't feel bad all the time. True, I liked knowing people were intimidated by me, and I liked them to know not to mess with me because I would carry out my threats but – what was the problem with showing them I wasn't a horrible, heartless demon; everyone had the stupid misconception that I had NO feelings nor emotions at all, save anger and neutral. They didn't think I could be happy, or that I could love.

Well, I could, and I can.

"Goodnight Pip." I smiled, kissed the sleeping boy's forehead, and settled myself to shut off.

The first time must have been around 6:30, and after seeing the time and remembering it was Saturday, I simply fell asleep again. I woke up again at about 9:00, and Pip was still asleep, curled into me with one hand resting above my heart. I covered that small hand with mine, holding gently onto it to keep it there. I closed my eyes and dozed.

It must have been an hour later when Pip first stirred. He made an adorable yawning sound, and wriggled slightly. I looked down at him, and his eyes were just fluttering open. His legs tensed as he stretched them, then he settled down again, burying his head in my jumper.

"Mmm..." he sighed, pulling his arm from around my waist and lifting his hand from my chest, then resting half-upright and rubbing his eyes.

"Morning Damien." He mumbled, yawning again. Then he frowned. His lips formed the word 'what?' though he made no sound. He looked at me, blinking like he was seeing things

"Mornin' Pip." I said. "Sleep well?"

"Mmm." He hummed the affirmative, then looked around. "Why are we sleeping on the sofa?" he asked.

"You fell asleep, but I didn't want to wake you when I moved you so we stayed here."

"Didn't you want to get into your bed? The sofa can't be terribly comfortable, or big."

"Well I've been sleeping here. On your sofa."

Pip looked almost horrified.

"Oh, I really should have shown you the guest room! Oh dear, I don't want you to have to be uncomfortable!"

"I was fine Pip." I reassured him, placing my hand on the one that had fallen onto my knee. He tensed and relaxed again so fast I barely noticed it.

"Well, tonight you can have the room, okay?" Pip nodded at me, so I nodded back. He lay back beside me. "You really are lovely and warm you know. I can't have heating at the moment."

"Why?" I frowned.

"Too expensive. I'm already slightly behind." He also frowned, and shuddered, before asking, in a whisper "Do you mind if we lie here a bit longer?"

"Not at all." I replied, and he rested his head on my shoulder, and drew my arm tighter around him, then pulled the cover up to his nose. I chuckled and ruffled his hair slightly.

"You are simply adorable sometimes, you know that?" I said, almost to myself. He blushed, and turned his eyes up to stare at me. Then he uncovered his face just long enough to poke out his tongue at me, and hid again. I laughed, then lent to whisper in his ear.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Pip squeaked, and pulled the covers closer. With a playful growl, I lifted him up in my arms, cover and all.

"Ah! Damien!" he yelled, and started beating my chest with his fists, though he was giggling. I bounced him around a bit, before trying to place him on his feet. They didn't take his weight very well, and as he toppled he grabbed onto me, successfully catching me off guard and pulling me down with him.

Luckily I was able to twist us so that he landed on top of me instead of the other way round. Pip sat up, giggling between coughs.

"That was fun." He managed to say before doubling over.

"Calm down a bit Pip, you're not helping your chest." I told him, rubbing his back gently. He took deep, wheezing breaths, coughed a bit more, and eventually he was able to breathe properly.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I just grinned and nodded, then offered a hand to help him up. He took it instantly. "C'mon, let's get some breakfast, I'm starving."

"You like eggs and sausages and bacon?"

"As a matter of fact I do."

"Time for a good ol' English breakfast then. This way." The little blonde smiled at me, then grabbed my arm and towed me to his kitchen.

**=PIP=**

I was rather confused when I woke up next to Damien, and wondered for a minute if I'd been dreaming.

I'd never really known Damien all that well; three days is usually only long enough to get to know someone, but it isn't always long enough for you to truly confide in each other as good friends. But now, it seemed like we'd known each other for years, and then been separated, then reunited again. There was this strange... bond I guess you could call it.

We were opposites really, but don't they say 'opposites attract'? Even I knew enough to be able to vouch for that particular saying. Kenny and Butters were almost total opposites; one innocent and naive, the other extremely perverted but at the same time horribly aware that reality wasn't all fun and games. But they were perfect together. Craig and Tweek were almost total opposites; one nervous and defenceless, the other brave and strong enough to stand up for himself and protect that one other.

They balanced each other out; while around Tweek, Craig was much looser, much easier to talk to and noticeably more content. With Craig around, Tweek was less nervous, much braver and visibly more relaxed. Kenny tended to be much more subtle with his innuendos around Butters than otherwise, and Butters had become much more insightful since he'd known Kenny.

So, could that work for us? For me and Damien? I'd considered it before, I knew, but fleetingly.

I brushed those heavier, more meaningful thoughts out of my head. It would do me no good to think of 'what ifs' and be brought down. It was better by far to simply let it happen as it happened, no time to dwell on what could have been.

I smiled cheekily up at Damien.

"How do you like your eggs in the morning?" I sang jokingly.

"I like mine with a kiss." He smirked back. I laughed, and pecked his cheek. He stared for a second.

"Now seriously, do you like scrambled or fried?" I beamed innocently. He chuckled.

"Any way you wanna cook them, I'm not particular." He replied, still chuckling deep within his chest. It was a strange, deep sound that could easily sound unnerving but was at the moment good-natured.

I bustled around the kitchen, getting all the food from the fridge, spending a few minutes finding the pans needed, stopping to press play on the radio. I pulled on an apron I kept for cooking, chequered blue and white. Soon the kitchen was filled with the hiss of frying meat and eggs and the wonderful smell of bacon and sausages. I bounced merrily to the song on the radio – Owl City's Fireflies. I'd always quite liked he song – I'd actually learnt to play it on piano along with a few others.

"I'd like to make myself believe...That planet Earth turns slowly... It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep, because my dreams are bursting at the seams." I sang softly along with the chorus. Damien was watching me, and grinning. Usually I'd feel embarrassed around someone other than Butters and Tweek, but Damien was different.

I played it up, singing into a random wooden spoon. By then Damien was laughing, loud and deep. As the song ended I bowed, and he clapped.

"What a performance." He said, raising his eyebrows.

"I can do better." I shrugged with a giggle. I bit my lip and blinked at him, and he just looked up at me.

Once the food was ready, I quickly served it up. I was surprisingly hungry myself; the smell of bacon was extremely tempting, and made my mouth water. We both ate hungrily, and once we had finished he complimented me.

"That was wonderful. I do like a good bit of meat, and your bacon and sausages were perfect. Dad isn't always that good at cooking." He made a face at the mention of his father's cooking.

"Well, seven years of making your own meals tends to make you a good cooker." I shrugged.

A knock on the door attracted my attention, and I bounce dup quickly to see who was calling. I presumed either Tweek or Butters, and smiled when I was met by the latter and his boyfriend.

"Hi Pip! How're you feeling?" he asked sweetly.

"No worse, at least." I replied, motioning for them to come in. Kenny was making odd gestures at Damien, grinning and bouncing his eyebrows. Damien was, in turn, glaring at Kenny, and hissing slightly under his breath.

"Me and Kenny just borrowed some DVDs, and we were wondering if we should all watch one together, tomorrow." Butters chirped happily.

"That would be wonderful; I haven't watched a movie in quite a while." I nodded.

"Brilliant! I'll bring a few over, we can choose."

"And popcorn." I grinned. Butters laughed and nodded.

"McCormick you be quiet now or I swear..." Damien's voice raised just high enough for me to hear what he was saying, and he trailed off as I turned to look at him. Kenny waved cheekily, and I just rolled my eyes.

"Kenny, stop annoying him." Butters scolded jokingly, walking over to look up, hands on hips, at his boyfriend. Kenny just smirked and pulled Butters into his chest. I walked over to Damien and stood close by his side, feeling the heat radiate off him.

"Why are you so warm?" I asked him quietly, while Butters and Kenny were talking and giggling.

"Earth is much colder than Hell, so my body's heating automatically reacts. Because it's so cold here, I'm even warmer." He replied lowly.

"I wish I could do that." I muttered, and he made a single low noise to express a laugh. Then he looked down at me, and whispered.

"You didn't put cover-up on your neck today."

I started, my hand flying to the long cut I knew was still there, and quickly ran upstairs, waving a quick goodbye to Butters and Kenny (who had realised the time and needed to leave). Damien followed me up.

**=DAMIEN=**

I managed to catch his hand before he made it all the way up the stairs.

"Hang on; before you do anything, can I try something?" I asked. Pip tilted his head, but nodded all the same. I pulled him to his room.

"Sit down on the bed." I told him. He went over and sat almost directly in the middle, his legs folded on either side of him in that way only some people can do. I went over and sat in front of him, and for a moment we just stared at each other.

I reached my hand to his face, and touched his neck where his pulse throbbed. For a moment he flinched; I understood, it is only natural to shrink away from something touching your neck, simple survival instinct, but then he stilled himself and tilted his head back. He trusted me.

After feeling his steady pulse for a few moments I moved to touch the top of the cut, right behind his jaw, and a mere centimetre from his jugular vein. I traced it down till it nearly reached his shoulder then stopped.

"This may feel kinda weird." I warned, pressing my palm against the wound and using the other to keep him in place. He shivered but nodded. I focused my energy on healing the cut; I'd been taught some time ago, in case it was ever needed. Dad said 'even you may have someone you want to save, or heal – it's a pretty useful skill'. I have no idea why he thought that (or more, how he'd guessed that) but I was glad I knew how to do it.

After all, I needed to be able to help my Pip.

**=PIP=**

"This may feel kinda weird." Damien said gently. I looked into his face and saw... kindness.

I knew I trusted him. If he had been holding a giant knife to my throat, and asked if I trusted him, and I'd been able to choose between ducking my head to shield my neck and my life, or tilting my head back to expose it, I would probably have done the latter, the same as now. Only, after that thought, I added in the possibility I might not, due to there being a giant knife in his hand.

It sounded much better when I first thought it.

Suddenly my neck felt extremely warm, then rather numb, then slightly like pins-and-needles. I gasped slightly, because the sensation startled me, but it didn't feel bad, it felt strangely nice. From the bottom of my vision (because, with my head tilted at an angle, my head was slightly inclined upwards) I could see Damien, his face a mask of concentration, eyes glowing red. It wasn't a fierce glow; it seemed to be almost gentle. I considered for a minute whether there was actually a difference or if I was imagining it, and eventually came to the conclusion that, though the difference was subtle, Damien's eyes could certainly glow gently _and _fiercely.

Feeling in my neck returned to normal, and I tilted my head back down so I could look directly at Damien, though I still had his wonderfully warm hand in place. He lifted it slightly, and smiled, seeming to be pleased with whatever he had done. I raised my own hand to hold his where it had been pressed; palm to my neck, fingers cupping it gently, thumb just brushing my jawbone. It was warm, and comforting, and I enjoyed the feeling.

We contemplated each other for a while, never moving. I closed my eyes and nuzzled gently into the hand he still had to my face. When I opened them again, Damien's gaze was soft, and his eyes were half closed, and he had this tiny smile on his lips. I let myself fall forward, onto his chest, and buried my face in his neck. He enclosed me within a warm embrace.

I felt him press his lips to my forehead, and he stroked my hair gently. I shifted so I was sitting half in his lap. He seemed all the warmer, if possible. I couldn't get over how safe I felt with him, how secure, like I was meant to be there. I felt normal, and honestly perfectly fine, when he wasn't there but when he was... it was like I finally belonged somewhere, like I was finally truly welcome.

I gripped the front of his jumper, trying to push myself infinitely closer, as if I was trying to merge myself with him or stick us together with super-glue. He held me tighter, as if trying to help me.

"It's okay Pip." He murmured. "I'm not going to leave you. Never again."

"Promise?"

Damien paused for a second, but used it to draw breath.

"You're stuck with me." He chuckled.

"Fine with me." I whispered.

**=X=**

Eventually, Pip fell asleep again. Damien lay back against the pillows, and looked down at the sleeping blonde. He was still gripping Damien's shirt, and was lying so his head was on Damien's chest, the noirette's steady heart-beat in his ear.

Both boys dozed on and off for an hour, before they were both up and awake again. It was sometime in mid afternoon, so they loitered around the house. Sometimes they watched TV; sometimes they talked, and at one point Pip played a few songs on his piano. Some songs he sang or hummed to, others he simply played.

"You're good." Damien smiled.

"Thanks." Pip grinned back.

The boys enjoyed a small tea, and turned in early.

"Do you mind if I... sleep next to you again?" Pip asked sheepishly. "Only, I..."

"I don't mind." Damien assured him with a smile. Pip beamed and flushed a delicate pink. After changing they lay beside each other, soaking up the feeling of simply being close, before gradually drifting off.

That Saturday was a brilliant day.

Unfortunately, the following day was not to be.

**=X=**

_A/N: Dun dun duuuuuuuuuun!_

_I finally finished it! 12 pages and over 5,200 words. I think it's the longest chapter yet!_

_I'm sorry if I bored you, but it had a point in the end, dontcha think? Also, sorry for the kinda random, frequent POV changes. For some reason I found this chapter was easier written from Damien's POV, but needed some Pip as well (Pip's POV got easier at the end as well). The chapters are kind-of going in a pattern; no-POV, POVed (tis my new word I made up XD), no-POV, POVed again. _

_Thank you again to all my wonderful reviewers, without whom I would have no drive to upload this (and I would probably have given up by the second chapter.) but you guys keep me going, so it's nice to know your views, comments, and just generally know you exist XD_

_I promise, next chapter is the big... thingy that happens. I've had it planned from the beginning, just waiting to strike..._

_Well, thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!_

_-Jem-_


	5. Chapter 5 ::Abandoned::

**In Sickness and In Health**

**Chapter 5: Abandoned**

_A/N: Hooray! I got this out sooner than I thought I would! Now you all get to see Tragic Sunday's events. It took me a while to try and come up with something big enough to match your great expectations of this plotline (see that lame, totally failed, joke/reference? XD *shot*)_

_Thank you to my reviewers for last chapter: ____, __**AzureIzumi**__, __**TheParanoidNerd**__, __**.Dn**__, __**Kylee Car**__, __**Dani Dreadful**__ and __**The Anonymous Innocent Blusher**__! Thank you all for your reviews. _

_Let's get on with it, but first, all your warnings and disclaimer thingy-s._

_**Warnings:**__ Y'know, I don't think there's much swearing in this chapter, if any at all. But just in case._

_**Disclaimer:**__ Omg, Tweek and Craig confessed their love for each other? Damien came back for Pip? Stan and Kyle finally ditched Cartman and let Damien torture him with a painful, agonizing death full of gore and fire? NO? South Park is not mine then, else Cartman would be deader than dodos and dinosaurs. Sorry if you thought I was brilliant to make this show. I disappoint. Very much so._

=X=

Pip woke up to the sun shining through his bedroom curtains, making the whole room seem to be filled with a light blue glow. He looked up, and smiled at the sight of the familiar face of Damien, still sleeping. Pip nestled closer to the comforting warmth that the noirette gave off, and made a small content noise. Damien shifted beside him, wrapping his arm around the blonde just slightly tighter.

"Dami..." Pip whispered. Damien groaned quietly.

"Dami~..." Pip giggled, and prodded the boy beside him. Damien huffed and lazily opened his eyes.

"Mmm...what?"The noirette groaned, tensing and stretching.

"Time to get up." Pip looked down at him, eyes bright, smiling. "Remember, we're watching a film with Kenny and Butters at 11, we can't sleep for too much longer."

"Eh..." Damien rubbed his eyes. "Whassa time then?"

"Uh... 9:30." Pip said. Damien pulled the blonde back down to his chest.

"Another half an hour?" he asked. Pip smiled, nodded and snuggled down amongst the covers again. Damien kissed the blonde's forehead and, with a mumbled 'thank you', was asleep again within five minutes. Pip giggled quietly, and managed to set a quiet alarm on his mobile, before he lay back next to Damien, and closed his eyes.

=X=

"Damien! Hurry up!" Pip called from the kitchen. He finished the bowl of Cheerios he'd been eating for breakfast, and ran up the stairs. He met Damien halfway; the noirette had some looser jeans on and a different T-shirt on from the day before, and his hair was still slightly damp from the shower he'd just taken. After quickly telling him where the cereal was kept, he kept on going to his room, where he laid out some clean clothes; light blue jeans, plain white long-sleeved shirt and a warm blue jumper, before hurrying to have a wash.

Damien was outside when Pip emerged, this time in a fluffy white bathrobe that fell to his knees.

"D'you want me to fix your..." Damien gestured at the Brit's chest. Pip paused for a second, then nodded.

"Let me get my jeans on first." He said, and left Damien standing outside for a minute before calling him in.

Damien narrowed his eyes again when he saw Pip's battered ribcage. The blonde tried for some sort of apologetic grin, before twisting to try and see if there was any damage on his back or sides. Damien walked over to him, and sat beside him. Pip blinked up at him, and sat perfectly still. Damien pressed his hands gently to both sides of Pip's chest, and his eyes closed as he focused. Pip felt the warm fuzzy numbness spread over most of his torso, making him shudder slightly. The feeling faded, and Damien took his right arm, and set to fixing the hand-shaped bruise that still stood out against the pale skin.

When he had finished, Pip looked down at his chest. The bruises were gone completely, and the scars that had been years old weren't as noticeable – the only sign they were there were a few slightly discoloured lines that had a strange almost-shine to them. Pip took Damien's hand and placed it where it had first healed the cut on his neck, pressing it closer to him. The noirette leant forward and kissed Pip's forehead, and stroked a strand of blonde hair out of the Brit's face, before walking out of the room. Pip sighed, pulled on the shirt and jumper, and followed him.

Damien had started a fire in the fireplace, to warm the front room up. Pip walked over, and pressed himself to the demon-boy's chest. He sighed, his breath shaking slightly. Damien rubbed his back gently, picking up on Pip's mood. Being cooped up and disallowed from work obviously worried him and made him restless. He could tell by the way Pip tried to keep his hands busy and if they weren't he rubbed them together and played with his fingers.

"It's okay. If you want, I'll bring some work for you to do. Just so you have something to occupy yourself with during the day." He suggested gently.

"That'd be nice." Pip mumbled from within the shirt. "Though I do wish America had sick-leave pay, I'm rather behind on bills and I have a really, really bad feeling..."

Damien decided not to mention that he too had that deep, gut instinct that said something wasn't going to go right. He kept his dark eyes on Pip. Worrying was what got him so ill in the first place. Really, Damien didn't think being kept in his house was making the blonde any better. As if to confirm that thought, Pip started coughing rather weakly, his whole body stiffening. Damien rubbed his back again, pecked his forehead, and gave the Brit a simple 'don't worry' look.

"Listen, I was thinking – my Dad's been teaching me telepathy, and I was considering setting up a link between us, so you can, y'know, call me anytime anywhere if you need me, silently." Damien said. Pip considered.

"I haven't been taught – how do you communicate telepathically?" he asked.

"Well, I can make the link like... a presence, in your mind. You'll know what I mean, you can sense it. And it would only work if you consciously sent a thought to me, so random thoughts don't get through."

"That'd be nice, to be able to be able to get to you secretly at any time." Pip nodded.

"And don't be afraid to talk to me when I'm at school either, cause it's boring as all heck – there's never anyone next to me." Damien grinned. "I have a feeling someone is absent from all of my classes."

Pip smiled brightly at the thought of having Damien sit next to him in all classes. After a brief pause, and a look that was almost telepathic in the words it conveyed, Damien put his hands on either side of Pip's head and stared into his eyes. Pip was rather shocked when suddenly he could almost physically feel Damien's presence in his mind. The feeling was strong for a few moments, before it died down slightly and became something like a thought, way back in his head.

"That's actually really weird." He muttered.

"_It's pretty cool though, huh?_" Pip heard Damien's voice, as clearly as if he was speaking from right in front of him, in his head. Pip laughed.

"_Sure, I guess it's 'pretty cool"_ he sent back. Damien smiled and released his face, before slightly ruffling his hair. Pip pouted and started fixing it.

There was a knock at the door, and Damien turned to the fire again as Pip walked off to greet their guests.

"I remembered the popcorn!" Butters giggled. Pip led the two blondes through to the living room.

"Hey Pip, are you like, rich or something? This is a surprisingly big place." Kenny asked lightly.

"I am and I'm not. I don't think I'm as well off as such people as the Blacks, but I don't know – I never was told the total sum of my money. I just receive it in small monthly payments, then any that's left when I'm 18 will be given to me. That's how the company was told to handle the inheritance."

"So what, did a rich family member die or summin?" Kenny seemed simply curious.

"No, no. My family was poor and common. My sister didn't work, and dear old Joe was only a blacksmith, and that was it for living family. Actually, my money comes from a convict I saved, dear Magwitch, who worked and gave the money to me, because of my kindness to him. I am ever grateful to him, for allowing me to be properly educated; else I should have been a poor boy in a dingy orphanage. But I am only rich in the sense that I have money away somewhere; otherwise, I haven't many luxuries. I simply can't afford it." Pip shrugged, and the conversation dropped there. Butters called Pip over to choose a movie and chat; Damien caught Kenny's eye as a signal for the blonde to come over.

For a minute, the Antichrist and the immortal blonde simply stood and watched their companions. While Butters was talking and giggling energetically, Pip sat and smiled in response, but there was no missing the dark circles beneath his eyes, and the way he was slightly too pale.

"He seems much older, Pip." Kenny mused quietly. "Everyone else still acts like normal, cocky teenagers; and Butters especially always seems so young; but Pip, Pip acts like he's much older than us."

Damien had to agree. While it was obvious Pip and Butters were extremely good friends, Pip couldn't help but seem to have the air of someone years older than 16; the way he smiled at Butters looked almost like a parent or older friend listening to a young child talk about something childish. Pip seemed like an older brother compared to Butters, not a teenage friend of the same age.

"I'd guess it's because he's had to look after himself almost his whole life. I don't know much about him, but I'd guess his sister wasn't the nicest person. Not to mention he's been alone here for around eight or nine years." Kenny looked at Damien.

"He needs someone here with him. I can tell he doesn't like being alone. That's why I'm here." Damien said lowly. Pip and Butters looked over at the older boys, signalling that they were ready to start watching.

"We've decided 'Little Nicky'" Butters giggled.

"We thought it was kinda ironic." Pip smiled, before stepping forward to insert the disk and set up the TV. Kenny and Butters snuggled together on the sofa, a bowl of salted popcorn between them, while Pip curled up beside Damien on a heap of pillows and blankets made into a cosy nest in front of the fire, a bowl of sweet popcorn ready in front of them. Pip lent close to Damien, and the noirette held him to his chest, where the Brit stayed comfortably encased in the warm protective embrace.

=X=

"That was a good film." Pip laughed, prying himself from Damien's arms and walking to the DVD player to stop and retrieve the DVD.

"Yep, comedy is always the best thing to cheer a person up. Which is why I'm so good for people, being a natural comedian." Kenny grinned cheekily, before diving to steal the last piece of popcorn from between Butter's fingers just before it could get to the younger blonde's mouth. Butters cried out in surprise then smacked Kenny lightly, though he giggled too. Pip laughed, and even Damien had a humorous smile on his face.

Pip walked out into the hall, remembering some post he had seen when Butters and Kenny first arrived. He picked up the two formal brown envelopes. He opened the first one.

'_Dear Mr Pirrup_

_Due to a change in policy, we must inform you that you will now be receiving your money every six months, in January and June, and your amount will be £5,000 ($7838)._

_Your next payment will be in: January_

_Thank you for your understanding,_

_Mr Wopsle'_

Pip frowned at the letter. Not only was he getting just under his previous yearly total, it was now spaced out more. This probably wasn't good.

Pip walked to the doorway of the front room.

"_What's wrong?_" Damien's voice sounded worried.

"_A change in my inheritance payments, that's all. I just need to work around it._"

Damien shifted, as if to stand up. Kenny and Butters also looked briefly up at Pip, but seeing he was busy, proceeded to carry on the conversation they had been having with Damien. The noirette, however, seemed distracted, and kept his eyes on Pip. His instincts were telling him that bad was going to happen, and everything was going to get worse.

Indeed, when Pip opened the second letter and read it, he gasped, and staggered slightly. Damien was instantly up and by his side. He looked down at the letter.

'_Dear Mr Pirrup_

_We are writing on behalf of Mr and Mrs Trent to request a sum of money, regarding the advanced mortgage payment they made for the house you are currently residing in. They had forgotten about said advanced payment, and are angered that you did not think to mention to them, and feel they have been robbed and cheated._

_Therefore, we request $60,000 within the space of two months. If this is not carried out within the appointed time, the property will be seized, and items taken until the stated amount is repaid ._

_Thank you for your compliance_

_Mr Harris'_

"Who are Mr and Mrs Trent?" Damien frowned. Pip was shaking in his arms.

"M-my adoptive parents... I thought they were... they disappeared... there were no bodies but... we held a funeral. I visit their graves." Pip whispered.

Damien stared, shocked. Kenny and Butters were silent too. Pip's knees finally gave way, though Damien caught him and held him upright. The letter fluttered to the floor.

"I guess we should be going." Kenny said quietly. Pip nodded once.

Kenny and Butters left – as they passed Kenny placed a hand on Pip's shoulder, and Butters hugged him as best he could.

"Don't worry Pip – we're all here to help you." Butters tried to reassure his friend. Pip looked at him helplessly, but nodded again. Butters and Kenny said a final farewell, and left the two alone. Damien pulled Pip to his chest, and lifted him over to the sofa nearest the fire. The Brit's breath was now coming short and fast, short gasps that slowly turned into soft sobs as Pip buried his face as deep into Damien's t-shirt as he could.

"Hush, hush." Damien whispered gently as he allowed Pip to cry into him. He tried to think how he could comfort the sobbing boy with words, but came up with nothing. Instead he rocked Pip gently, stroking and smoothing his hair, rubbing his back and keeping him as close as he could.

"They... they..." Pip seemed to be trying to say something between sobs and coughs.

"_They left me. They abandoned me." _He managed within his head, his inner voice still heavy with dejection. "_They hated me..._"

"Shh." Damien breathed "They couldn't have hated you."

"They forgot about me." Pip cried. "They left me! Like everyone leaves me!"

"Pip..."

"Joe left me! He sent me away. Just took me out one day, and... and left me. Pocket left me – before he died he refused to make my company for almost a year! And you left me! You left me amongst these horrible people, alone and hurt... _you_ left me Damien!" Pip was yelling by now, and shaking violently.

"Pip!" Damien held the blonde's face, forcing the teary hazel eyes to look at him. He wiped away a few tears still lingering on the flushed cheeks, and held Pip's gaze sincerely. "I know I left you – I regretted it y'know. I missed you. That's why I'm _back_. Because I need to stay beside you, to know you're still there, know your safe, protect you, help you, heal you, comfort you, hold you... I came back for _you_. And I'm not leaving. Never again. Okay?"

Pip wrapped his arms tightly around Damien's neck, gripping the back of his shirt like he'd never let go, and sobbed freely into the noirette's shoulder.

=X=

Damien lifted Pip – fast asleep – up to his bedroom. After laying the blonde on the bed, and wrapping him up in a few blankets, the Antichrist paused to simply look at him. He had tracks down his face where tears had run and dried, his breathing was still uneven and every few minutes he shuddered and gasped. He looked like he had simply shut down, turned himself off to prevent a system overdrive. He didn't look peaceful; tears still rested on his eyelashes, and rolled down his cheeks, his eyebrows knitted together and his hands clenching every now and then.

"_Shh Pip. You just sleep. Rest. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise._"

Pip shifted, and whined lightly, but simply buried himself within the duvet. Damien held his hand momentarily, and Pip squeezed back, before he withdrew and quietly removed himself from the room.

Damien ran a hand through his dark hair. He thought back to the conversation he had had with Kenny, not two days ago.

'_I'm glad you came when you did.'_ Kenny had said. _'He's been getting worse and worse. Nobody bothers to notice, but I do, and Butters and Tweek have. He's slowly slipping into despair and depression. They've been worrying – one more thing, we thought, one more thing and he'll snap, and he'll end up... we didn't even want to think what could happen. He needs someone to save him.'_

Now Damien couldn't help but wonder if this was that last thing that would finally bring Pip down, break his heart and spirit, and whether he would be enough to fix it.

When he reached the front room, he grabbed the letter from where it had fallen on the floor. He found the Trent's number, picked up his phone, and stormed out of the house. He intended on shouting and severely reproaching them; he could barely believe they could simply abandon a young boy to look after himself. Then he was going to either threaten they drop the demand, or pay them out in full.

Before he could do anything, however, a sudden burst of flame shot up in front of him. Before he could even yell out in surprise, a hand grabbed him from within and he was engulfed.

=X=

Pip jolted suddenly awake. He gasped at the shock, and his eyes snapped open, expecting to see Damien's face close by him and have the boy comfort him. He'd promised he'd be there.

'_I'll be here when you wake up. I promise.'_

That's what he had said. He'd promised. Damien promised he'd be there. But he wasn't.

"Damien? Damien!" Pip called out. There was no answer. Pip started to panic.

'_He's gone, he's left me, he's left me alone again..._' Pip's thoughts raced worriedly. He was shaken and insecure, and his mind jumped instantly to conclusions.

"_Damien? Damien!_" Pip tried their telepathic link. It was still there.

Then it was gone. The link was cut. No reply, it was like... he'd been hung up on. Like he'd just been completely ignored or purposefully shrugged off.

"Damien!" Pip screamed frantically. When there was still no reply, Pip burst into tears, and buried himself in his duvet, wrenching his hair and telling himself he was stupid for believing he actually had someone who would never leave him.

=X=

_A/N: OMG! It's all happening now!_

_I read all the comments like 'omg can't wait to see what happens!' and re-read and my 'original' idea kinda seemed insignificant... so I upped it! A lot. _

_And now I'm hoping you're all on a 'dun-dun-duuuuuuuuun~ omg what's gonna happen nao!' cliff-hanger thought thing._

_Five chapters, and a definite sixth coming up. WOW! This is like... the most committed I've ever been to a story. It also has the most reviews of all my stories so another big THANK YOU to all you reviewers out there._

_Also, Merry Christmas to everyone out there, and Happy Hanukkah if you're Jewish, and happy whatever-else-anyone-might-celebrate! I don't really do Christmas. My Christmas tree has tried to kill me for three consecutive years. A sign maybe? But whatever._

_Also, not looking forward to probably the twelfth nativity play I've had to attend in my whole life, which I am being FORCED to go to, because my brother is still in primary and we therefore have to attend the school nativity. Grr._

_Still. Presents are an upside._

_And! Come Christmas Day, I will officially have been on for a WHOLE YEAR! Must say, this account is the best present I've ever given myself. Of course, it will be another four months until the year-anniversary of my first upload – my first uploaded story, Her Last Breath! Which I think must kinda suck, and it only has one review asking about who the 'girl' is. Still think I've improved since then (or I hope I have!)_

_But now I'm babbling! If you're kind enough to review, it is greatly appreciated. _


	6. Chapter 6 ::Giving Up::

**In Sickness And In Health – 6**

**Giving Up**

_A/N:OMG! Sixth CHAPTER! I LOVE you guys for reading this, and reviewing, and subscribing and adding to favourites and everything! Writing and getting these positive reviews has really cheered me up since I started doing it. Thank you again! My reviewers for last chapter: ____, __**Tobi77177**__, __**Komodo Butterfly**__, __**XxNuMbCoMplicationxX**__, __**Kylee Carr**__ and __**TheParanoidNerd**__! Thank yoouz~._

_I think I'm getting creepy now, so I'll let you read the story._

_**Warnings:**__ Yeah, quite a bit of swearing. Naughty Damien. X3_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own any of these character people. I own only the idea for my plotline, and that it all. REMEMBER!_

=X=

The fire cleared, and Damien jumped back, startled. He looked around; the room was familiar, black, with posters on one wall and a gothic style wardrobe against another, a bookcase beside it, the door to the left of them and a large bed, stripped of a duvet and blanket, dominating the fourth wall. His bedroom.

"What the fuck?" he yelled. He spun around to face the owner of the large red hand that had grabbed him; his father, Satan.

"Damien Alan Thorn, you are in BIG trouble." Satan thundered, crossing his arms and staring down at his son.

"_Damien? Damien!"_ the noirette's dark eyes widened at the familiar voice.

'_Pip'_ he thought. Before he could answer however, the link was cut.

"Wha... Dad! Fucking hell, Dad, I need to get back..." Damien tried to transport himself back to South Park. He couldn't. "Shit! Dad, you have no fucking idea..."

"Damien, you listen to me!" Satan interrupted. "I have been worried sick for days! You just up and left, with no word as to where or why you were going!"

"Dad, that's not important right now..."

"Of course it is! Damien, what have I told you about leaving without telling me?"

Damien glared at his father, his eyes a bright crimson. He hissed vehemently, and stormed away from Satan, before hitting out at a lamp on his bedside table. The lamp fell and smashed, littering the floor with red glass.

"Now Damien..."

"No, I don't have fucking _time_ for this! I need to get back!" Damien yelled. He tried to run out of the door, but Satan blocked it. Damien made to punch his father, but Satan caught both his arms, forcing his son to stay still. The demon boy struggled violently, and even tried kicking, but nothing worked and he was eventually forced to give up.

"You are not going anywhere Damien. You are not leaving this house for two weeks! You will stay grounded in your room."

"You can't fucking _ground_ me!"

"Yes, I can. You won't have any powers for at least a week either, and even then your access to Earth is completely denied."

"You are fucking KIDDING me! There is something much more serious going on right now, I don't care about grounding or any other shit like that. This could be life or death, Dad." Damien growled, and kicked out at his father again – Satan pulled the boy away from him and lifted him off the ground.

"Damien, don't get yourself into any more trouble then you are already in. If you want to minimise your sentence, _behave._" Satan tossed his son onto his bed, and then closed the door behind him as he left. Damien immediately ran at the door, but was unable to open it. He let out a loud, frustrated cry, and threw himself back onto the bed.

=X=

**=TWEEK=**

I leant over to peck Craig quickly on the lips, before I hopped out of the car and walked to Pip's front door. I knocked on the door, and waited. A few minutes passed, and no answer, so I knocked again. When, on the third attempt there was still no answer, I turned back to Craig. He was still sat in the car, waiting for me to be safely let in. He frowned, and got out of the car.

"What's up Tweekers?"

"I dunno." I mumbled, knocking again. Craig banged loudly on the door, and even tried shouting through the letterbox. Still no answer.

"They c-can't still be –nngh- asleep, can they?" I asked. Craig banged a few more times, and we waited. Nothing.

I was worried. I took out my mobile and called Pip's number, knowing he kept his own mobile with him at all times. The phone rang, but it was never answered; it eventually went through to voicemail. I tried again, with the same result. By now I was seriously worried. Something bad had happened.

"I'll call Damien." Craig muttered. He held the phone to his ear for a moment before saying "Dead. Straight to voicemail."

"Oh dear God..." I banged again on the door. "Pip? Pip! Pip!" I shouted through the letterbox. Not a sound from within the house. I turned desperately to Craig. "Something's wrong Craig. Very - GAH! Very wrong!"

"Okay, I'm going to call Kenny, maybe he knows..." Craig pulled me to his side, and I nestled into him, well aware I was now shaking violently.

"Hey Kenny?... Yeah... Um, neither Damien nor Pip are answering the door, Tweek's worried... has something happened?" There was a pause. "You... D'you really think it's that serious? Well... no... that's probably not good." Another pause "Kay, see you in a minute then." Craig snapped his phone shut.

"Well? W-what's –nngh- wrong?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Something happened yesterday. Pip was really upset... but Kenny's worried too, because Damien isn't answering. He's coming over." Craig wrapped both arms around me. I whimpered. This wasn't good.

Kenny came running about 10 minutes later. Craig had been banging on the door, and I had been calling Pip. We were still getting nothing. I was extremely tense, shuddering and twitching and yelling all the more from worry. I knew something had been going on with Pip before Damien arrived, and I was worried about the effect whatever Sunday's tragedy was had had on the poor boy.

"Still no answer then?" Kenny huffed. Craig shook his head. Kenny thought for a minute. "Okay, I'm going to break in."

"What? How?" I shrieked. Craig pulled me to his chest again.

"I'm going to pick his lock." Kenny replied, and set to picking the lock on Pip's front door. It took a good few minutes, but we were eventually in. We all stepped inside, and paused to listen and look around; complete and utter silence. Kenny started up the stairs, followed by Craig and myself. We reached the landing, and heard a small whimper from the bathroom.

"Pip?" Kenny called softly. I hid myself behind Craig; the whole silent atmosphere was creeping me out. There was no reply, other than a second small sound. Kenny walked slowly forward, as did Craig. I followed at a small distance. Kenny opened the bathroom door; it had been slightly open, giving us a view of white tile. Then he stopped and stared. Craig went up behind him and also peered into the room. He and Kenny exchanged a glance, before Craig backed out.

"C-Craig? Wha..."

"Come on Tweekers, we're gonna go sit downstairs." He said quietly, blocking my path to Kenny and Pip. I tried to dodge around him, but he held me in place, and stared into my eyes. "Come on Tweek. You don't want to see this."

My eyes widened, but I allowed myself to be dragged down the stairs to the sofa, where I curled into Craig's side, and waited for Kenny to reappear with Pip.

**=KENNY=**

It was serious. Rather more serious than I thought it would get. I really didn't think Pip could ever really be truly depressed. I guess I was too used to the cheerful facade he kept. It had gone completely now.

The first thing I noticed was the small stain of red that jumped out in contrast from the clean white tile. Pip was sat, legs curled to either side of him, one arm outstretched and bleeding, the other shaking as it reached out to touch the wounds. His hazel eyes, once bright, were now dull and dead looking, staring at his left arm with a mixture of disgust, fear and a strange relief. His gaze flickered to me, full of deep heart-wrenching misery. His breath was shallow and fast, and I could hear how he was wheezing slightly.

"It's okay Pip. It's okay." I whispered, inching slowly closer. He looked stressed and slightly out of it; he flinched back for a second. A single tear raced down his face and fell onto the pale jeans that were already slightly stained with red. I crouched beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Kenny?" the blonde whispered. I nodded. "He left me, Kenny."

His breath caught, and I pulled him close to my side. He rested his head on my shoulder, and closed his eyes. He seemed exhausted. I looked at his arm. He had a small cut across one finger, and three larger ones at the very base of his hand, right at the top of his wrist. They didn't seem too serious; they weren't deep enough to be fatal or anything, and they hadn't cut the main artery either. I reached into my pocket for bandages and plasters (which I kept for my own unfortunate accidents, should I survive them) and wrapped the Brit's wrist and covered his finger. Then I gently picked him up, and carried him to his bedroom.

**=PIP=**

When I heard my name being called I was suddenly snapped back to myself. I noted a pain in my left wrist, and blinked to clear my vision. There was blood. My other hand held a small, sharp razor. I dropped it instantly, shaking, and stared again at my left arm. I'd done that to myself? I didn't fully remember what train of thought had caused that. I remember somehow finding logic in doing this... somehow physical pain would drain the emotional one, and I was far more tolerant to the physical brand.

I was disgusted that I would ever think of doing something like this to myself, deep down I was. I was scared – very much so – that I'd actually done it. And yet there was some sort of relief from doing it – somehow it had actually caused a sudden jolt of energy through me, and there was a brief flash of pride in actually having the guts... but that disappeared and I felt a prick of regret. It had been stupid. I could have killed myself.

Part of me didn't care. In fact, most of me didn't care.

I was just glad all this misery wasn't pent up inside me anymore. I had let it out. I felt marginally better, for just a minute.

I looked over at the boy who owned the voice. Kenny. I felt dimly grateful at the sight of a familiar face. He came towards me slowly.

"It's okay Pip. It's okay."

_No it's not_ I thought. _Everyone I love turns their back on me and hates me. Everyone who means something to me leaves me. My life is in tatters. I am alone. Nothing is okay._

"Kenny?" I managed to whisper. He nodded at me. "He left me, Kenny." I whispered.

I felt the deep bitter despair wash over me again. He put a comforting arm around my shoulder. I was exhausted. I was too exhausted to cry, and as I felt the lump form in my throat, I closed my eyes. My mind clouded quickly with darkness, until I was engulfed in a cold, black numbness.

**=DAMIEN=**

I stirred at a knock on my bedroom door. After fighting with Dad I must have fallen asleep. I'm not in the mood for whatever he has to say to me. Not only am I now groggy with sleep, I'm worried sick about Pip. He was upset enough, and I could sense that I was a comfort source; something he had to rely on, else he was left alone. He was upset, deeply hurt, and insecure. His adoptive parents had abandoned him, let him think they were dead, and was scared that everyone would leave him, abandon him like so many people had done before.

I was supposed to be there. Right at this minute, I was supposed to be sat beside him, comforting him, soothing him from his bad dream and reassuring him that I would stay with him, no matter what. And now I had been forced to leave him; kidnapped by my own father and being held hostage in my own room. In his current state, he'd automatically assume I'd abandoned him too.

And I didn't want to consider what could happen if I wasn't there to protect him.

The knock came again.

"Fuck off, I don't want to talk!" I yelled. There was a silence, then footsteps walking away from my door. I flipped over onto my back. Not only was I stuck here, with no way to get back to Pip, but half of my stuff wasn't here either. I glared at the ceiling.

With a deep sigh, I rolled onto my stomach again, and rested my forehead on my arms, and set to wracking my brains for some way to get back to Pip.

**=CRAIG=**

It was... I can describe it. I was truly shocked. I looked at Kenny. Through a look, he told me to go and look after Tweek; that he'd sort out Pip.

"C-Craig? Wha..." Tweek looked between me and the door, and took one step forward, his face full of worry.

"Come on Tweekers, we're gonna go sit downstairs." I said quietly, blocking his path to Kenny and Pip. He tried to dodge around me, but I caught him by the shoulders and kept him stood in front of me. He looked up at me, and now looking slightly scared. "Come on Tweek. You don't want to see this."

Tweek allowed me to steer him down the stairs, where he curled himself close to my side. He was shaking; Tweek shakes a lot, but not this much when I'm with him. I took his green thermos out of the bag he always carried it in, which he had put down when we first came in. He took it gratefully, and poured the hot liquid into the cup-top. It barely lasted two minutes.

We were sat downstairs for quite a while. Tweek managed to finish the whole thermos in that time.

"Craig... he's gonna be –nngh- okay, right?" my little blonde whispered. I kissed the top of his head.

"I think so Tweek." I reassured him. My phone vibrated within my pocket, and I checked to see a new message.

'_U can come upstairs. – Kenny'_

Although I wondered why Kenny couldn't simply come down to us, nor call us from the top of the stairs, I nudged Tweek and told him we could go and see him. The whole situation felt serious, like in a hospital; like we were sat in the waiting room, waiting to go and see Pip. I was almost expecting to go in his room and see him surrounded in wires. Tweek stood up, and grabbed my hand; even though he wanted to go up and see Pip, I think he was slightly scared now by not being able to see him initially.

I opened the door, and we both stepped into the room.

**=NORMAL=**

Tweek and Craig walked quietly into the room, closing the door softly behind them. Kenny was sat on a chair on one side of Pip's bed. The blonde boy himself was lying on his back, eyes closed. For a second Tweek panicked, but in almost the same instant Pip's chest rose and he took a small wheezing breath, assuring Tweek that his friend was alive in the least.

"Why did you text me to come up instead of coming to get us?" Craig asked quietly.

"Apparently..." Kenny glanced over at Pip "Damien's gone."

Pip flinched in his sleep. He let out a short, quiet cry that held so much pain that Craig and Kenny winced. Tweek rushed to his friend's side and held his hand comfortingly. Pip settled back, but was still quite tense. Kenny took Craig further away from the bed, so that Pip couldn't hear them. Tweek stayed next to him.

"I don't think he's left of his own choice. Pip's... he's insecure, and unstable at the moment. I'm considering calling a hospital or something. But we need to find Damien, because I think he's the only one who'll be able to fix him completely." Kenny whispered.

"How do you plan on doing that?" Craig asked.

"I'll need to go to Hell. I need to wait for something to kill me. I don't think that will be too long, but even so..."

"And about the hospital, don't do that."

"Why?"

Craig looked up at where Pip was asleep, and Tweek had taken Kenny's place beside him. It really was too much like they were already in a hospital. Tweek spoke up softly from the other side of the room.

"He'll think we've done it to try and get rid of him. You said he first snapped when he found out his adoptive parents abandoned him here. That's his insecurity. Being abandoned. His family back in England; they obviously 'abandoned' him through giving him up for adoption. His adoptive parents abandoned him here. Now Damien's 'abandoned' him. If we leave him in a hospital, he'll think we've all abandoned him too. We can't leave him alone anywhere, let alone send him somewhere. We've got to stay here, with him." He said. Kenny considered for a moment before nodding. He could see Tweek's point all too well.

"Okay. So we keep him here. I'm going to school; I need to talk to Butters. Craig, you coming?" Kenny paused at the door. Craig shook his head.

"I need to stay here to look after them both." The noirette said. Tweek reached a hand back for him, and Craig took hold of it gently. Kenny nodded, and left the room.

**=BUTTERS=**

Kenny came into class late. I had been worrying; maybe he'd been killed on the way here. Although it's a rather frequent occurrence, I always worried anyway. When he walked into class I smiled in relief... only to notice the seriousness about him. Something wasn't right. Something had happened.

He sat at his desk, a row over and a few desks in front of mine. Suddenly the English teacher's words were a dull buzz and I couldn't concentrate at all. Kenny looked back at me, and in that glance I could see we needed to talk. It was serious.

Everything was way more serious than it should have been.

**=PIP=**

I was grateful for the blackness. It was cold, and had no feel – I was floating in nothing – but all the same, I didn't have to deal with the shit outside, in the real world.

The occasional thought drifted across my mind. It felt like I'd been here hours, days. It felt like I'd been here for mere seconds. Either way, it was numb and free of emotion, so I thought.

"_Damien's gone_"

The loudest, clearest thought in whatever this odd infinity of nothing is, echoed and rebounded, taunting me with its painful truth.

If I'd had the energy to scream, I would have done. Instead, all I managed was a quiet cry. My chest felt like a hole had been ripped in it. My heart shot with pain, and I could almost feel it stop beating – it simply ceased. Then another stab of pain, and it was beating again with angry ferocity.

_I think someone's sitting with me._

_At least I'm not completely alone._

_I wonder if it's Kenny._

_Or whether he's ditched out on me too._

_I miss being warm. Not just normal warm – the warmth Damien gave me. It wasn't just bodily, physical heat. It warmed my chest. It buzzed in my stomach. It swirled in my head._

_Why must I always do this? Love someone who hates me? People who despise me?_

_I guess I'm just stupid._

_I must be stupid. Trusting someone. Why do I trust people? People can't be trusted. No-one can be trusted. Even your best friend could be thinking about how much they hate you. And you'd never know. You'd just continue to trust them, until you tell them something that matters._

_And then it'll all be turned against you._

_16 years. 16 years I've been alive. 16 years of being hated. 16 years I've trusted my fellow humans._

_Well screw that._

_It's taken me 16 years to realise you can't trust anyone._

_If I make it past 16 years, I'll have learnt something._

That's what I thought as I determinedly shut off my brain and went back to drifting in the cold, never ending blackness.

=X=

_A/N: My fourth update today. I said I was on a roll, didn't I?_

_Heh._

_Well, that's the sixth chapter done. Released before Christmas. I think I'm well on schedule. It's such an angst-y ending. Well, obviously this is a kinda depressingly themed story, but you know. Pip's given up on humanity. It's a sad day._

_Can I just say, Damien's middle name is like a... what d'ya call it... whatever, it's like a reference to Sam Neill who played the adult Damien in Omen III Final Conflict. You might be wondering what the name Alan has to do with Sam Neill... I think I like accidently did that because, before I knew his name, I knew Sam Neill only as Alan Grant from Jurassic Park. I think I got confused while I was thinking ' Anywho, it means 'little rock' and sounds a heck of a lot better than Damien Samuel (actually that doesn't sound THAT bad but... yeah Damien Alan sounds better. In my head. My friend agrees with me. Shaddup.). So yeah._

_Btw, I'm sorry, this A/N is kinda weird compared to the atmosphere of the story because I'm kind-of on a high at the moment. I've been reading way too many cute and fluffy fics, been getting way too many nice reviews and holding in way too many squeals of TMC and happiness, and now I'm kinda on a sugar/coffee rush. It's Mom's fault. She puts too much sugar in my coffee. _

_I've just re-realised, I'm been spelling 'mom' with an o for almost, like, two years now. Ever since I read Heartland I've spelt it the American way. It's one of the only American spellings I use. Cause I'm English. So I use English spellings. Yeah. I'm babbling. Blame sugar. Okay? Blame it all on sugar._

_Uh... *cough cough*. Yeah. I hope you feel like reviewing, because as I have said before, it makes me extremely happy (and occasionally hyper) and then I go and do the whole French-accent happiness in my head._

_I'm going to shut up and go now.  
AND ITS SNOWING =D_

_Snow in December is rare where I live. We usually get it in January._

_Yeah. Bye._

_=3_


	7. Chapter 7 ::Bad To Worse::

**In Sickness And In Health – 7**

**Bad To Worse**

_A/N: Hallo. I'm going to let you get on with reading, but be warned, this chapter is kinda depressing and could be scarring. I am truly sorry for this tragedy. Seriously, I depressed MYSELF writing this._

_Thank you to my reviewers once again! I think I might start answering your reviews at the bottom of my chapters, so yeah if you ask something I'm going to start answering them. If I have nothing to say other than 'thank you' I won't write anything cause it'd take too much time. Anyway, my reviewers: __**Tobi77177**__, __**TheParanoidNerd**__, __**Meso the Hanyu**__ and __**xxSkitten**__!_

_**Warnings**__: Language, upsetting material, mentions of serious self harm_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I'm not the owner of South Park. I'm the owner of this story._

_=X=_

Damien frowned in his sleep.

Something wasn't right. Something had gone wrong.

He could sense it was to do with Pip.

He could sense deep despair.

And an utter, total, lack of hope and trust.

He tensed. It was his fault. Why, why for the love of sin, _why_ did he step foot outside? He could have stayed inside. He might have bought some time. His father wouldn't have attempted that in front of any human, he was sure.

It was his fault Pip was in this state of mind.

The one thing he had never wanted to hurt in any way...

_Fucking figures._

"I-I'm really worried Craig." Tweek whispered. His dark haired boyfriend had pulled him close to his chest for comfort. They were still in Pip's room, the blonde still asleep.

"I know Tweek. I am too."

While Craig was just as worried for _Tweek_ because of the situation, he had to say that over the years he'd come to know Pip as a person and not a punch-bag, he'd come to think of the Brit as a passing friend. He would probably never hang around the boy without Tweek's company, but still. He didn't want the little Brit to die, nor come anywhere near that state.

_Because if this wasn't fixed, it could well end that way._

He'd heard about people who did this sort of thing, this self-harm; teasingly called 'emo' along with anyone who seemed to fit in the category due to looks or personality. He knew he could never truly understand what any of these people felt or thought or did, but he knew enough that it wasn't a situation to brush off casually or ignore, or pretend was easy to fix.

Some of them started out being categorized. Sometimes it gave them ideas. Sometimes they did it to prove they could, and they would. Some managed to find a twisted logic to it. Most of them wanted to stop.

Not all of them could.

Craig turned his attention and thoughts back to Tweek. His little blonde was shaking. He reached out a trembling hand to place it on Pip's.

It was his left hand. There was a plaster on his index finger.

Tweek didn't exactly know about that bit yet.

Pip didn't respond. His face stayed in a scarily blank expression. Not a muscle moved. Not a twitch. Even his chest was barely rising.

It was unnerving. He looked almost lifeless, comatose in the least.

For someone usually so full of life, it was unnatural.

Kenny, what's happened?" Butters demanded urgently as they left their English class. Kenny looked around.

"It's either ditch ICT or wait till break Buttercup." He muttered.

Butters pulled him into the nearest men's room. ICT mattered a whole lot less than whatever had happened, and screw the grounding and punishments he'd get for skipping.

"Tell me Kenny."

Kenny paused. He looked around, as if searching for the words to speak. He looked at Butters as if trying to gauge what his reaction would be.

"He's...Pip's..." Kenny searched again for words. "He's... hurt himself. It's... Damien's apparently gone and it's totally... he's snapped. 'One more thing'..." he trailed off and looked up at Butters.

The small blonde stared. He took a few deep breaths.

"We need to go help him."

"Craig and Tweek are there. We'll go after school. He's still asleep I should think."

Butters paced once or twice around the bathroom.

"How bad was it?" he whispered.

"Luckily not fatal. He could have done much worse. We're all lucky he didn't."

_**Damien could see him in his mind. The blonde had tears streaming down his face. He hugged himself tightly, stroking the fuzz of the blue jumper he had on.**_

_Pip grimaced at a great inner pain. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into the fabric and gripping so hard he felt the pricks of pain in his upper arm._

_The inner pain almost faded. Suddenly the nerves all up his arms, all up his sides, tingled as if bracing for pain. There was an odd tingling itch in his wrist. Pip rubbed at it. The feeling grew stronger. His nails pressed on the point, and the feeling faded just slightly. He dug them deeper and a small thrill of pain shocked through his body. His breathing came faster._

_A solution._

_**Damien could suddenly see, in his eyes, what the blonde was about to do.**_

"_**No!" he yelled. Pip didn't hear him.**_

_There were razors in the drawer._

_That would work._

_**Damien tried to run to Pip and physically restrain him, force him to stop, but there was some force holding him back. He tried yelling again. No response.**_

_Pip ran the sharp edge across his finger. The pain buzzed and flashed and he jolted from it. There was some form of release from the suddenness of it, from the energy._

_He watched the red run down his finger, onto his hand, towards hid wrist._

_**Pip pulled down his sleeve slowly, matching the pace of the red liquid.**_

"_**No, Pip, stop!" Damien yelled futilely. He banged against the invisible barrier. It didn't give. He tried to turn away, tried to back away from the scene, but he couldn't. He was stuck to the spot.**_

_**He wanted to close his eyes and not see.**_

_**He wanted to wake up.**_

_**He couldn't.**_

_One gash._

_A flash of pain. A gasp. Blood. Too many mixed and jumbled feelings at once to focus on one._

_Hold ready..._

Pip jolted. The remembrance was vivid. He was ashamed to recognise the feelings return to him. He looked beside him. Tweek. Craig.

Pip closed his eyes again.

_**Damien struggled, caught by an odd hold – he could neither run towards or away from the horrific vision of the Brit. He tried closing his eyes – it was like they were see-through. He was being forced to watch as the only person, the only thing, he'd ever cared about, kill himself.**_

_**Blood. So much blood. Staining Pip's pale denim jeans, his light blue jumper. It puddle and ran. Tears streamed faster down Pip's face more and more.**_

_**One last slash. One last gush of blood.**_

_**Pip sank slowly to the floor, and the life in his beautiful hazel eyes died away.**_

Damien sat bolt upright with a yell.

His first nightmare, probably ever. Something completely foreign to him.

It had panicked him. He fought desperately against his father's barriers.

And broke them.

"_Pip?"_

Pip flinched. The voice. The presence. His eyes widened. He sat up slowly, and looked around. Tweek moved, and seemed to say something. Pip blanked him.

"_Pip?_"

Damien's voice, definitely. It was panicked; almost scared.

"_Damien?_" he responded warily. He almost forgot his misery, everything, almost lost it in the flash of joy that Damien had come back to him at least in the way of contact.

Almost.

"_Pip!"_ came the relieved reply.

It seemed that was all Damien could say. Pip's distrust crept back. It could all be fake. Maybe he was going insane and imagining the voice.

"_Thank...you're al..._" the connection was fading. Pip could sense it.

He didn't fight to keep it. He didn't trust it. Damien couldn't be fully trusted. Maybe it was all a trick. Maybe Damien had done everything to gain his trust and use it against him.

"_Pip!"_

Connection dead. False hope. It was all a lie.

Pip lay back and stared at the ceiling for a minute. Tweek said something. Pip looked at him, his gaze showing weariness and hopelessness and sorrow, before he closed them and shut himself off again.

Tweek sat forward when Pip jolted suddenly awake. Craig sat still and silently. Pip looked up at the ceiling. He rubbed his left wrist and shuddered slightly. Pip looked at them. Green met hazel. For a moment the second pair flickered over to Craig. Then they turned skywards and closed.

Tweek looked back at Craig. The noirette shrugged.

"He probably doesn't feel like talking. We just need to stay here if he needs us." He mumbled quietly. Tweek nodded to show he understood.

It had probably been about five minutes before Pip stirred again. His eyes darted and searched as he sat up.

"Pip?"Tweek asked gently. The Brit looked at him for a split second before ignoring him completely. His lips moved soundlessly. He didn't seem to see anything in the room.

The blonde frowned, absorbed in his own thoughts. Then he flinched slightly – it was barely noticeable. There had been a tiny light, like a glimmer of hope, in his eyes.

It dimmed and died, before Pip lay back and closed his eyes again.

Damien didn't notice his father when he burst into his room. His dark red eyes searched, and he sat straight and tense. For a moment he seemed to be about to panic, but then his whole body relaxed, every feature registering relief. Suddenly Satan knew what Damien was doing.

"Damien..." he said as a warning. His son's eyes flickered to him for a second but he seemed to be concentrating more on whatever conversation he was having in his head.

"_Thank Lucifer you're alright! I'm..."_

That was when Damien noticed the connection dimming, and glared death at his father. He struggled against the reinforced power of the barriers that had been put upon him.

"_No! Pip!"_

That was the last thing he managed before his one connection was cut and he could no longer reach Pip.

"For FUCKS sake Dad! What do I have to DO to PROVE to you this is FUCKING SERIOUS!" Damien yelled at his father. His eyes glowed a fierce red, and a few items started hovering. A vicious-looking spiked ball flew towards Satan, but he batted it away. Satan, who had come in with the intention of seeing what Damien had yelled at before and thinking about comforting his son, frowned and took a step forward.

Damien hissed, and started making a low growling sound in his chest. Satan stepped back, slightly startled at the ferocity of the sound.

"Stay away from me." The demon boy growled. Satan sighed, and after a quick glance at his son, left the room again.

Damien clenched his teeth and his growling stopped as he attempted to control his temper. After a few deep breaths, he looked around to see if there was anything else he might be able to use to gain contact with someone.

He swore he was going to get back to his Pip.

Pip sat up again, and went to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Pip?" Tweek said hesitantly. Pip looked back at him and attempted a smile. It didn't work.

"Just... going to the bathroom." The Brit said, and left the room. Craig got up to follow.

"Where are you going Craig?"

"Checking he's doing what he says he is."

When they walked out onto the landing, they heard a small gasp. Craig frowned. Tweek looked worried.

"Pip?"

No answer. The sound of controlled breathing. A whimper.

"Pip?" Craig said again, a lot more urgently.

"I'm fine." Pip's voice was shaking. He didn't sound fine.

Another whimper.

"Pip, open up." Craig commanded, and rapped sharply on the door.

There was a surprised squeak and a loud gasp.

"Ah!" Pip cried from inside.

"Open up now, Pip." Craig's voice was louder and he banged on the door again. Tweek whimpered from behind him and tugged his hair.

"Craig?"

Pip sounded scared. There was a scrabbling at the door where the lock was, and Pip cried out in panic.

"Tweek call Kenny." Craig instructed. Tweek nodded and rushed back into Pip's room to grab Craig's mobile.

"Pip, stay calm okay?"

"Help!"

"Pip, don't panic. Try and relax a bit, yeah? Open the door."

Pip's breathing was coming short and fast, but he was trying to control it. The door finally unlocked.

Pip stood trembling, his arm bleeding far more severely than before.

After a panicked look at Craig, the blonde staggered and his legs gave way.

Kenny was in his last lesson before break, only 10 minutes away, when his phone rang. He checked the caller ID.

Craig.

He looked up at the teacher, who was scolding him.

"I'm sorry Miss; I really have to take this." Kenny said, looking meaningfully at Butters as he left.

The smaller blonde jumped up and followed him taking both their bags with him.

"Craig?" Kenny asked.

"Kenny, this is Tweek. S-something really –nngh- b-bad has –ack- happened, y-you need to... God!" Tweek's shaking voice cut off to a horrific cry.

"I'll be right over." Kenny promised, and hung up. Butters handed him his bag, and slung his own over his shoulder. Both boys looked at each other, their eyes locking for a second, before sprinting out of the school.

Thinking fast, Craig grabbed a towel from Pip's bathroom and wrapped it tightly around the Brit's arm. Pip was pale and shaking.

"I-I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, oh God..." Pip started mumbling in a panic.

"Shush Pip, okay? We're gonna take care of this." Craig tried his best to soothe the panicking boy.

Pip was surprisingly light for a sixteen year old boy – and Craig had thought that of Tweek, but Pip was even lighter. Craig carried him to his room. When he entered the room, Tweek (who had been on the phone) trailed off and gasped when his boyfriend made an appearance with one of his best friends.

"Oh Pip!" he gasped, after discarding the phone behind him. The English blonde looked up at him.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered, starting to cry. Tweek cradled Pip's head to his chest. The boy shuddered and sobbed in Tweek's arms, still trying to apologise.

"Hush, hush." Tweek soothed, looking up at Craig with tears of his own glistening in his eyes. The noirette walked over to put an arm around his boyfriend for a minute, before standing up again.

"I need to look for some proper bandages." He said, leaving the room and walking into Pip's bathroom, which he reminded himself would need to be cleaned. He searched through the cupboards, and came up with nothing. Then he heard a knock from the front door.

Craig rushed down and met Kenny, with Butters stood behind him.

"Please tell me you have bandages?" Craig asked. Kenny's lips became a thin line, and he nodded. Butters gasped and clung to Kenny's arm.

A little while later Pip had been seen to as best as the teenage boys could do, and he was asleep. Kenny frowned as he looked down at the deathly pale teen.

"We have to call the hospital, this is serious. We can ask for a few of us to stay with him, but we do need to take him." He said quietly. Everyone nodded, knowing he was speaking the truth. Then Kenny stood up.

"Sorry, I gotta go get some stuff; I'll be back as soon as possible."

Butters kissed his boyfriend, then watched as he walked out of the room. There was a minutes silence before, from outside, they heard the screeching of tyres and the all too familiar yell of "Oh my God, they killed Kenny!"

"About time too." Craig muttered.

=X=

_A/N: About time is right. I'm sorry, copying this was kinda boring so I wasn't doing it all that fast, and I know poor Pip and... yeah, but don't worry. Kenny can get to Damien now. _

_I'm estimating another 2 chapters, maybe three, and an epilogue. And then... this will be finished! It's kinda... wow._

_Happy New Years! I'm hoping to get something out for it but in case I don't ._

_I'm sorry if this has totally scarred you. I will see you next chapter, which will hopefully be soon cause I want this to go uphill and for Pip to not be lying almost comatose in a hospital bed. So I hoep I'll see you very soon._

_Bye now!_


	8. Chapter 8 ::Glimmer Of Hope::

**In Sickness And In Health 8 – Glimmer Of Hope**

_A/N: It's short, shorter than I wanted it to be, but you guys deserve an update I think. Seven pages is enough I guess. I've done shorter chapters. School sucks, because I obviously can't write my fanfictions if I'm there. (Btw, I'm thanking my reviewers at the bottom this chapter. I didn't forget you wonderful people ^^)_

_As a little side note, please check out my profile because I now have a story ideas/unpublished stories section, where I will put up a few ideas I think are worth writing down, and asking if you want to see them. I'd love to get messages if you do._

_Warnings: Swearing and that's it (this chapter isn't really depressing!Huzzah!)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. I don't own these characters. I own the plot and a new pair of black skinny jeans and new converses. _

=X=

**=KENNY=**

As soon as I got to Hell I made a beeline for Satan's house, which is actually what I usually do anyway, but today – today it was serious. I wasn't just coming over to avoid the crap out here, wasn't just going to hang around with Damien; I was saving a life. During my time as Mysterion, I protected the innocent, I helped people, and that was what I was doing now.

I knocked on the door, and was greeted with the usual, red face of Satan. I smiled up at him, like I always did.

"Hey. I was wondering if..."

"Sorry, Damien's grounded in his room."

I have to admit, I almost laughed. In fact, had the severity of the situation I was actually in not been weighing me down, I'd probably have been rolling on Satan's doorstep, laughing so hard any live person would have died from it. But it was, so I didn't. Instead I think I kind-of stared at him open-mouthed.

"Well, it's kind of important. And really serious." I explained, hoping this would be enough to get past. No such luck.

"I'm sorry Kenny, he's restricted to his room for a week."

I gaped at him again. Ohh dear...

"I'm sure I'll let you see him after that. Sorry, I must go now. See you around." Satan smiled again at me, and gently shut the door. I think I gaped at that for another minute before I snapped back to myself and came up with a plan.

First, get to Damien's window.

I will admit that Satan's house is fucking huge. Like a mansion. And asking any normal person to jump out of a window as high as Damien's was would have been like telling someone to shoot themselves in the head. In other words, suicide. However, down here, Damien needn't really worry about that, in fact he didn't need to worry about it anywhere, because Damien obviously couldn't die in human or spiritual form unless you had the Seven Daggers of Meggido to stab him with, and holy ground to do it on.

So I stood and chucked a small pebble at his window. It only took another two pebbles to gain his attention, and then he was leaning out of his window, asking me questions in the loudest whisper/quietest shout he could.

"Kenny! What're you doing here? How's Pip?" he called.

"He's alive, but we need to get you back up to Earth! And get you guys in contact!"

"Dad's barriers are too strong." He said. "The telepathic link is blocked; I can't get to him through that. And Dad confiscated my phone."

"Yeah, so we found out. Come on, jump, we need to get as far away from your house as possible."

At that moment, my phone rang. I'd managed to, with the help of Damien, get my phone to work even if I was in the afterlife. It was seriously complicated and totally cool, but I had made my friends aware of it, especially Craig after this whole incident, knowing I'd be dead at some point and need it. He was probably checking to see if I'd made it to Hell, and check the connection worked.

"Hello?"

"Hey Kenny. You made it?"

"Yeah, yeah. Damien's been kidnapped by his dad and locked in his room; that's why he hasn't been able to get to us."

At this point the conversation fuzzed up.

"Sorry, the signal's being blocked." I told him, before shouting up at Damien "_Hurry the hell up_!" Damien gestured at me, and I gestured back, and he resumed sitting on his window-sill.

"Okay, well call us back when you're able to."

"Yeah okay. _Just jump you fucking pussy!"_ I nodded, calling up to Damien. He narrowed his eyes at me, and shrugged, then jumped – and landed right on top of me.

"Oof!"

"I was trying to tell you to move back so I didn't land on you." He said from atop my back. "But you weren't listening, and then you called me a pussy, so I did as you said and 'just jumped'."

"Kay. Get off?"

Normally I would have been greeted with some remark about a 'magic word' that changed every time I guessed correctly until Damien got bored, but we knew we were kind-of in a rush, so he just got off as I asked.

"Right. Now run." I said, and we took off away from the house, heading for the hills where I hoped Satan's barriers would be weaker and we could start on ending this whole fucked-up thing.

**=DAMIEN=**

We were running in the totally opposite direction to the one we needed to go if I was to get to Earth, but I decided Kenny had already thought this through and knew what he was doing, so I followed him.

The good thing about not having a mortal body down here is that you don't tire. Well, most people do (this is Hell) but not me, and Kenny was pretty used to it now.

"You _have _thought about this, right?" I asked.

"Sure. Listen, we just need to get you in contact with Pip, so that you can reassure him. We need to let him know you're coming back for him."

"Will he believe me though?" I muttered. I wasn't completely sure. I had hurt him, severely, and if he had really hit as much of a rock bottom as I feared, I doubted he'd really trust anyone, me least of all. He's a strong person, I know that, but at that moment he was broken, and we needed to fix him. I needed to fix him.

"I think this'll be far enough." Kenny panted eventually. I looked back over the red rocky, flame-covered surface of Hell. Without my teleportation powers readily available, it could take a day to get to the Earth Portal. And we would run a huge risk of bumping into my father again, as he was bound to figure out I wasn't in my room at some point.

"You do realise my powers have been blocked, right?"

"Yeah."

"So why did we run in this direction?"

"It was the easiest." Kenny mumbled. "And the place most guaranteed for your father not to show up instantly. Now shush."

Kenny fiddled with his mobile for a minute, and eventually found the right number and called it. He waited a few seconds, before the other person answered.

"Hey, yeah, we're able to talk. Pass it to Pip if he's awake, if not, I'll explain everything to you and you can call back." There was another pause. "Hey. Listen, you need to stay on this call, no matter what, okay? Let us explain everything."

"Is that Pip?" I asked desperately. He nodded. I almost snatched the phone from him instantly, but restrained myself.

"Don't worry, he'll explain." Kenny nodded even though he wasn't visible to Pip, then held the phone out. I took it eagerly.

"Pip?"

**=PIP=**

I looked around. I wasn't in my bedroom anymore, and I wasn't in my pyjamas like I remembered being. Everything was either grey-ish white or fading blue. I heard a beeping from beside me, and looked to see some sort of monitor, and an IV leading to my arm, which was bandaged. I noticed Craig sitting over the other side of the room.

"Craig?"

He looked over at me, then stood up and walked towards my bed.

"Yes Pip?"

"What... happened?" I asked. I remembered... well, I remembered being trapped in my bathroom, and panicking. I remembered blood, and it was my own. That was it. Any memory after that was hazy, and before that seemed to have a mental block on it. Craig looked at me for a moment, considering.

"We sorted you out the best we could, then brought you here." He replied. I didn't doubt him, but I wanted to know what had actually happened to me that meant I was here. I had a feeling he'd purposefully left that bit out. I was stopped from asking more by his phone ringing. He looked at the screen, and answered.

"Kenny? Your phone working now?" Craig listened to the reply, then he held the small device out to me. "They need to speak to you." He explained.

_They? Who is Kenny with?_ I wondered.

"Kenny?"

"Hey. Listen, you need to stay on this call, no matter what, okay? Let us explain everything." Kenny said. I agreed, curious to know who 'we' included.

"Who's with you?"

"Don't worry, he'll explain." Kenny assured me, and I heard a small noise as the phone was passed to someone else.

"Pip?"

It was _his_ voice. Damien.

The sound of his voice brought everything back in a huge rush of memories... my adoptive parents still being alive, the money to pay on the house, waking up to find that _he wasn't there anymore_. Him abandoning me. Him leaving me. And the deep, dark pit of despair I had fallen into.

For a moment I was speechless. I was sure this was reality, or it had been a moment ago. I pressed the mobile closer to my ear, desperately trying to hold onto the one form of communication I had with him; I was still doubting, and I was still hurting, but I had missed him so much I honestly didn't care if I was dreaming, as long as I heard him. He sounded almost like he did in my head. Worried. Little doubts and questions snuck their way into my thoughts. _Was he even supposed to be able to feel that emotion? Was he capable of emotions like worry, guilt, longing? Love?_

"Damien?"

"Pip, I'm so, so sorry."

That threw me again. Sorry? Had I ever heard him say that before, to anyone? I didn't think so.

"W-what?" I managed to stutter out.

"I am so sorry I'm not there with you..."

"Why aren't you here with me? Where are you Damien? Why did you go?" I whispered sadly, interrupting him. He stopped dead in the middle of his sentence, before he picked himself up and explained, quietly, sorrowfully... he sounded truly, truly, sincerely sorry.

"I...I went out to sort out this thing, with your adoptive parents..." I drew a breath and he paused momentarily. "My Dad brought me back and grounded me. I couldn't get back to you. I was so, so fucking worried about you!"

My brain wasn't really processing this. Grounding had only really ever been associated with Butters before, and Tweek on occasion. Damien? Not so much. He wasn't one to listen to any sort of authority. And again with the worry.

"You... were worried about me?"

"Of course I was! Oh Lucifer, Pip, please don't doubt that. You actually mean a _lot_ to me – a lot more than anything or anyone ever has before."

I was still sort-of drawing a blank. I was hearing the words and I was trying to believe them but... I recoiled from accepting everything too easily like I had before. Doing that had never got me anywhere. I didn't know if I could tell, without being face to face with him, seeing him looking into my eyes without avoiding them, if he was telling the absolute truth. My mind simply wasn't letting me believe him outright. I didn't want to be hurt and disappointed again.

"Really?"

"Yes." Damien's voice was sincerity, and nothing else. I thought. "I meant everything I said before this happened Pip."

"I... I don't..."

"I understand you can't fully trust me Pip. But really, really, try. I'm getting back to you Pip, I promise. I give you my word. If I am not back within two days, you have my full permission to kill me when I next appear."

I nodded, before remembering he couldn't see me. "I'll hold you to that." I whispered.

"I'd better hurry and get going then." I could hear he was trying to add some humour to the situation, to cheer me up. Even if my brain wasn't allowing me to accept his words and promises, I couldn't help but be drawn to his personality and humour. He had a charisma I simply couldn't ignore.

"You had." I smiled slightly. I could almost hear him grinning on the other end, somewhere in Hell, and hoped he could hear my small smile as well.

"I'll get back to you Pippers. I promise." He said quietly.

"I'm waiting for you Damien." I whispered back.

"I... I lo... I got to go, Kenny wants his phone back." Damien stuttered, before I heard more rustling. I could hear Kenny talking faintly, and there were a few minutes where they muttered quietly to each other. Then Kenny's voice was back talking to me.

"We're going to be about a day, maybe slightly longer. If we're lucky we can short-cut through my materialization. But if not, two days is the maximum time. Hold in there Pip, we'll be back soon, don't you worry your blonde British head about it. You rest." Kenny said kindly.

"Okay. Bye Kenny." I sighed, and the conversation ended as Kenny hung up. I gave Craig his phone back and gave him a small smile.

"Thank you for helping me. I'm so grateful to all of you." I said quietly.

"I consider you a friend, Pip." Craig said, not making eye contact. "Friends help friends."

I nodded, and he allowed a small twitch in the corner of his lips that was his usual way of expressing a smile. We both looked over to the door when Tweek and Butters appeared in the doorway, their faces pictures of worry and then relief. They both came over and hugged me gently, asking if I was okay, expressing joy at me being awake and alive. I smiled and hugged them back; I assured them I would be okay.

I couldn't guarantee it. I knew that it could still go very wrong.

But I allowed myself to hope, just a little. I dared to trust Damien's words. This once, I told myself I could trust him.

And so there was a tiny glimmer at the top of my dark pit.

**=KENNY=**

"I..I lo..."

He was so close. He was blushing heavier than I'd ever seen him, mainly because Damien doesn't ever blush.

"...I got to go, Kenny wants his phone back."

_Damien, you are such a fucking PUSSY!_ I thought. He came so close. He held the phone to me.

"Damien! Just say it." I muttered.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He replied, going slightly redder.

"Yes you do. Come on, don't wimp out."

"Take your fucking phone back." He growled. I rolled my eyes and muttered "Pussy" before I took the phone and put it to my ear.

"We're going to be about a day, maybe slightly longer. If we're lucky we can short-cut through my materialization. But if not, two days is the maximum time. Hold in there Pip, we'll be back soon, don't you worry your blonde British head about it. You rest." I told him, hoping to put him at rest after that sudden end to his conversation with Damien.

"Okay. Bye Kenny." He said softly. I could hear he was slightly disappointed that he hadn't said goodbye to Damien. I ended the call and gave Damien a look.

"Dude, that totally sucked. If you are going to tell him at least go through with it."

"Shut up, it's harder than you think."

"I know it is at first, but believe me it's much better to just get it out there."

"I don't know if I'm 100% sure yet."

"Yes you are. I know you, I know love."

"But I don't." Damien growled. "I'm not even sure I'm meant to be able to FEEL that! If I can, maybe I'm... flawed, wrong, broken or something!"

I saw him physically recoil from the thought, and he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes showing some odd emotion between fear and disbelief. I'd never seen such an emotion in him, and I was suddenly hit with the realisation that he was _scared_. This was unknown, completely foreign to him. Of course, he'd never really felt love before, or had to worry about anything other than himself. I was sure he'd never felt anything close to how he was feeling now.

And, as it does to most humans, the thought that you could be so utterly, undeniably, inexplicably devoted to someone, that you could care for someone that much, the thought scared him. And Damien had probably never been scared of anything before.

I suddenly saw why he was having such a hard time with it.

I patted him on the back.

"I don't think so. You'll get used to it, eventually. Love is a brilliant thing."

Damien huffed sceptically but nodded. I grinned up at him.

"At least you didn't fall in love with some weirdo." I joked. "Pip's not a bad kid. He's nice, and kind, and sort-of cool in an odd way. And he's cute, and he has a kick-ass accent..."

"Shut it McCormick. You have your own blonde." Damien warned, but he smiled all the same.

"That's the Damien I know and love." I laughed as we set off walking.

"Quite seriously now, shut the fuck up."

"Okay, okay..."

=X=

_A/N: Rawr. I hope this is okay, I'm sorry it's not longer._

_Gosh, this is so close to completion. Like, I think just one more chapter and an epilogue. Oh my God. I think I'm actually going to finish this! I think it's the first piece of serious writing that has taken over a month and I've stuck at it! That's because of all you wonderful reviewers!_

_So thank you to: ____ (I have a horrible feeling your username keeps disappearing. If it does, I'm really sorry! I'll message you and thank you if it does that.), __**TheParanoidNerd**__, __**IAmYourSecondStalker**__ and __**Kylee Carr**__! I really must say how the reviews and reviewers are what have kept me going, especially you who have commented on most/all of the chapters! I'm glad you like my story enough to continue reading it._

_That said, I'd greatly appreciate reviews! If you do feel like reviewing, thank you in advance xD_

_Thank you, and goodnight._

_~Jem_


	9. Chapter 9 ::I Promise::

**In Sickness And In Health – 9**

**I Promise**

_A/N: Fuck the A/N. Just read it, I've taken to long! I won't hold you up any longer._

_Warnings: Language._

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I do own this story, and it's plot. _

=X=

After an hour of walking, Kenny noticed Damien had a thoughtful frown on his face, his hands occasionally moving absentmindedly, his eyes flickering from side to side, upwards towards the thick blackness that hid the top of Hell's cavern ceiling, then back to his shoes and the dusty red rock of Hell's floor. The blonde decided it was probably better to simply leave him to his thoughts instead of interrupt them and attempt to talk. Damien very rarely showed emotions, and he definitely wasn't one to talk about them. Kenny thought this was an inner battle that Damien needed to figure out himself.

All the while, Damien's thoughts were jumbled and confused, nothing quite making sense yet. Could he actually _love_ Pip? Was that possible? Was that _right_? Damien didn't know. These thoughts and questions scattered around his mind, making him feel restless and increasingly uncomfortable.

What if he actually _was_ broken in some way? If he was, all this thinking was probably just screwing him up more. His wiring was wrong, like the red was connected to the blue and there was a plug that should have something in but didn't or there was one too many or one had been cut or snapped. He was flawed, he must have been, because this would be perceived as weakness by his father and there was no need for something flawed. He would become useless, un-needed, outcast and alone with no purpose at all it the world or afterlife.

It wasn't so much that he personally cared; he was more worried with what his Dad would think and what would happen to him as a result. Thrown out of Hell? Punished? Destroyed?

_Why the fuck did this have to go and happen to me?_ Damien thought bitterly.

"Kenny?" he said eventually. The blonde turned to him, no witty quip or taunting grin; his face was serious.

"Yeah Damien?"

"If I was... If I was broken, what would happen to me, do you reckon?"

Kenny gave his a sympathetic look. "You aren't broken Damien. It's perfectly normal. Besides, love isn't a fault. It makes most people better people."

"Surely becoming a 'better person' would equal fault for me?" Damien raised an eyebrow.

"Dude, don't worry..."

"What if my dad finds out, huh Kenny?" Damien snapped.

"I don't think your Dad will have a problem with your liking Pip, and I am absolutely certain you don't have to worry about coming out gay to him, for obvious reasons." Kenny replied with raised eyebrows. Damien huffed and folded his arms, hunching his shoulders up. Kenny sighed.

"Dude, relax, yeah? For now, just worry about walking. Whether you are prepared to admit it to yourself, me, Pip, your dad, anyone, or not, you obviously care about that little Brit a whole lot, and right now you need to get back to him. He needs you just as much as you need him."

Damien paused for a moment, breathing out slowly and gradually relaxing himself. He put a hand to his head and closed his eyes, looking resigned.

"Okay." Damien muttered and started walking again. "I'm being such a fucking pussy."

"Yes, you are." Kenny agreed. "So you need to stop it, accept it, and believe me, everything will turn out okay in the end."

Damien grunted in reluctant agreement, and the two resumed walking in silence.

=x=

Pip lay, exhausted, in his hospital bed. Tweek was sat in a chair beside him, but Pip was too tired to even talk. Tweek seemed to know this, and instead rested his hand on Pip's, and they kept a loose hold on each other.

The Brit looked at his left arm, which had recently been re-bandaged, from his wrist up to his elbow. Pip hadn't looked, didn't want to know what horrible thing he'd done to himself. As the nurse was leaving he rubbed the arm gently, tracing around the area the drip went into his arm.

"Don't mess with that dear. You need it. We don't want to have to restrain you." She'd warned him gently. Pip had instantly snatched his hand away.

He didn't even have the energy to lift his arm now. His chest felt tight and he could tell he was gasping slightly, trying to draw oxygen into his lungs and use it properly. His head felt light and his vision was painfully bright with contrast. He made a small noise of discomfort.

Tweek picked up on the sound and squeezed Pip's hand gently.

"D-don't worry Pip. You'll get better and soon everything will be back to normal, you'll see." The jittery boy murmured comfortingly. Pip managed a weak smile and nodded.

"Yeah. I'm sure it will." He whispered.

"Just don't give up. W-we need you Pip. So don't give up." Tweek leant forward to gently wrap his arms around the Brit's shoulders.

Pip said nothing, instead burying his face in Tweek's shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut.

=x=

"We're getting closer." Kenny said, looking around. The area surrounding them was no longer near-deserted wasteland; more and more demons were starting to appear, from the small ones that could almost pass as cute to some of the larger, more grotesque ones.

The boys had been walking for almost a whole day. Soon they would be near the 'centre' of Hell; the Earth Gate, where souls fell down after death, and where the secret 'doorway' portal to Earth was. Kenny was hoping he would start re-materializing before they had to go there, because Satan was sure to be looking for Damien by now. He didn't know whether he would be mad, or worried, but either way he could end up stopping them from getting back and everything would have been for nothing.

"Hmm. You're not tired or anything, right? Cause if you are, it would be better to stop here for a while than keep walking and not be able to find somewhere."

"Well... Half an hour couldn't hurt. My feet kill." Kenny muttered, and the two flopped down behind a rock.

"Mine too, but in a whole different way." Damien grinned.

"You've killed a guy with just your foot?" Kenny repeated sceptically, a small smirk playing on his lips as well.

"Yeah. Kicked him in the balls, knocked him to the ground, crushed his head. Not all that hard." Damien shrugged like it was no big deal despite the fact he was obviously bragging. Kenny laughed. At least Damien had loosened up enough to joke around slightly. Kenny could still see that deep underneath he was worrying about Pip, but after hours of assuring him the blonde was in good hands, the demon boy had obviously put some sort of trust in the staff at Hell's Pass. Damien has stopped laughing now, and was staring sadly at the rock beneath his feet.

"He'll be alright, right Ken?" Damien murmured quietly, as if he knew what Kenny had just been thinking about.

"Yeah Damien. Yeah. He'll be fine." Kenny comforted, patting his shoulder then standing up. "Come on, let's go."

Damien nodded silently and got up to follow his blonde companion.

=x=

"How's he doin'?" Butters asked quietly. Tweek looked over at Pip, fast asleep in his hospital bed.

"T-the nurse says he should be –nngh- f-fine, but he's under suicide –gkk!- w-watch s-so they're being extra careful." He whispered back.

"It's really not fair that all this happened to him. H-he's a good kid; he's been nothin' but good. He doesn't deserve any of this." Butters sighed. "If anyone deserves to have anything bad happen to him it's that damned Damien."

"I-it's not really his fault Butters." Tweek muttered, shuddering at the frown on his fellow blonde's face. "He was forced back to Hell a-and grounded."

"Now come on." Butters raised an eyebrow.

"N-no seriously. K-K-Kenny says he –nngh- doesn't have his powers or –gkk- anything, t-that's why he couldn't come –nngh!- back."

Butters nodded and sighed again.

"I guess so."

The two boys shared a quick embrace before Tweek left and Butters went to sit by the side of his sleeping British friend.

=x=

"Right, now we're going to go along with that crowd and try to get out, okay?"

"Yeah."

Kenny and Damien nodded at each other and ran out from behind the rock and into a crowd of souls and demons. Both quickly straightened and tried to act normal as they were shepherded along. It wasn't long until they were in the main area of Hell; the large square surrounded by flames and lava pools to over-exaggerate the feeling of 'Oh God I'm in Hell'.

Damien ducked around to hide behind Kenny when he spotted the tall red figure of his father. Kenny made sure his hood was down, because having it up made him more distinguishable. As Satan glanced around, a worried frown on his face and fire dancing in his yellow eyes, everyone cowered beneath his gaze, masking Kenny and Damien as they instinctively hid.

"Dammit where is he?" the devil muttered. A large demon approached him cautiously.

"Who are you looking for, Lord Satan?" he growled, bowing slightly.

"Damien, he's run away again." Satan replied absentmindedly. The demon looked back over to where he'd just come, and Damien cringed as he realised the same demon had just been stood next to him.

"Oh shit, Kenny, come on!"

"What?"

"That demon saw us. Shit, come on, push forward." Damien hissed urgently, pushing his friend forwards.

"He's just over there, sir."

Both boys heard the rough voice of the demon and looked at each other, simultaneously making an effort to push through the crowd once more. Now everyone was glancing around at them, drawing even more attention to the fact that Damien, escaped son of Satan, was in their midst. A lot shrunk back in fear, eventually leaving both boys exposed in the open.

"Oh fuck." Damien muttered.

=x=

"Any change, Butters?" Craig asked. It had been a day and a half, and Pip hadn't been getting better; if anything he seemed to be worse.

"I don't really know. He's not awake as often, and he coughs much more I guess; he doesn't sound like he can quite breathe right." The timid blonde murmured. "I think he was crying earlier, but I'm not sure, cause when I came in he just rubbed his eyes and smiled then went right back to sleep."

"Has he said anything?"

"Not much... he asked the time occasionally, and occasionally he murmurs in his sleep, but other than that..."

"Nothing about... Damien?" Craig lowered his voice slightly in case Pip heard. Butters blinked up at him, and shook his head.

"No, nothing. But if he's not talking and he's awake, he stares at the door; his eyes are always flickering over that way."

"Hmm." Craig nodded. "They need to hurry up. Pip's being strong now but he could easily break down again..."

"Which is why we're here to stop that happening." Butters said firmly. "And if Damien isn't back when he's supposed to be..."

Craig was surprised at the tone Butters; it sounded fierce and he trailed off as if to insinuate a threat. Butters had never sounded so much like he actually hated someone, nor had he ever seemed the sort of person to have any sort of violent thought.

He knew that the three blondes were close; much closer than himself and his gang of his friends for sure. Years of being outcasts with each other, and having to help each other through all their individual hard times had obviously given them a strong bond, almost like brothers. Butters sounded protective, like an older brother out to get someone who had hurt his younger sibling, and he had the same look in his eyes. Craig knew it from his own experience with being an older brother.

At the moment Pip was the weakest, so Tweek and Butters had both become stronger to help him, and no doubt that all of them would do the same for each other.

"You don't like Damien do you?"

"Look what he's done." Butters hissed. "If it wasn't for the fact that he's the only one who can make Pip truly happy, then he'd never be coming back here." The blonde sighed. "I know that he hasn't meant to do it, but it doesn't change the fact that from the beginning I thought he'd bring trouble, and he has. He's done this and he's gonna have to do a heck of a lot to convince me he's not gonna let anything like it ever happen again."

Butters waved goodbye to Craig and walked out, leaving the noirette slightly stunned.

=x=

"Damien, what did I tell you no more than two days ago?" Satan shouted, crossing his arms. His son scowled.

"That doesn't matter now. I _need_ to get back." Damien said in a deadly quiet tone. Kenny stood silently next to him, looking nervously between father and son.

"Of course it matters Damien, I am your father and you should listen to me."

"I'm made to be evil, I disobey naturally." Damien argued childishly.

"I am still in higher authority than you!"

"And I don't give a shit. I have to go." Damien turned around to walk away.

"Don't walk away from me Damien!" Satan roared, flames bursting up to block Damien's path.

"Fucking hell, DO YOU NOT GET THIS? I. _HAVE_. TO GET BACK!" Damien rounded on his father, shouting angrily, eyes burning fierce red.

"What are you ON about? You're always saying you _need_ to get back, you _have_ to get back, but _why_. What is so damned important?" Satan was trying to remain calm, but his voice was still raised in anger.

"_BECAUSE THE BOY I FUCKING LOVE IS DYING UP THERE!_" Damien yelled. _"ARE YOU FUCKING HAPPY NOW?"_

There was a stunned silence in which Kenny, Satan and the small crowd of souls and demons that hadn't scuttled away in terror stared at Damien, while the demon boy stood, fists clenched, a furious glare on his face, panting slightly from the sheer volume of his own declaration. Then, unexpectedly, Satan relaxed himself and stood back slightly, as if backing down.

"Why didn't you just tell me that Damien?" he said quietly. Damien averted his eyes.

"I didn't want you to toss me out or destroy me for being weak and broken." He muttered, ashamed.

"Oh Damien, I'm not gonna do that!" Satan sighed, walking up to his son to place a hand on his shoulder.

"You're not?" Damien looked up.

"No, of course not!" his father cooed, pulling his reluctant son into a small hug. Then he grinned."I was wondering when you'd get your first boyfriend!"

"Dad~..." Damien moaned, rolling his eyes.

Kenny looked down at himself, and noticed himself fading.

"Oi Damien, come on, we gotta go. Now." He called, gesturing to himself. Damien nodded and all too eagerly pulled himself out of the embrace, rushing over to his fast disappearing friend.

"And Damien!" Satan called, and Damien looked back over his shoulder. The ruler of Hell smiled. "Bring this boy over to meet me when he's better."

"Sure." Damien gave his father a small smile, then Kenny grabbed onto his arm and they were gone.

=x=

"What day is it?" Pip asked weakly. The three boys gathered around his bed looked at each other for a minute, silently deciding which one would say it.

"Wednesday." Tweek said from beside Craig, shaking slightly.

Pip gave a small nod and sighed, eyes going once again to the door, sadness and longing shining in the hazel orbs. He looked back to his friends.

"Th-thank you guys. For everything. You're the reason I..." the Brit trailed off, looking away again. They all knew what he was thinking.

_You're all the reason I'm not dead._

"It's fine Pip." Butters murmured, squeezing Pip's hand.

"Y-yeah. Stay strong, Pip." Tweek said, breaking away from Craig to hug his friends. All three blondes embraced, tears welling in their eyes as they tried to give each other their strength, as they trying to hold themselves together.

"It won't be right without you Pip. You_ have_ to get better. You just have to." Butters' voice wavered. Pip made a small gasping sound as he tried to suppress a sob.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He whispered.

Neither boy knew if he was apologising for what he had already done or for something he was going to do. They were about to pull away when the British teen raised a hand to grasp their arms and nuzzled them.

"Please don't leave me." He whispered sorrowfully, tears leaking from his eyes. "I couldn't bear it if you left me..."

"We're not going to leave you Pip." Butters soothed, sitting down on one side of his friend and tightening his arms around him.

"N-never." Tweek agreed.

"E-everyone says that. They all say that and then they leave me." Pip drew back slightly, eyes wild and now showing fear. "They always say that and that always means they're going to leave and never come back."

Butters attempted to soothe him by stroking his hair. Tweek looked up at Craig. Pip was shaking more than the caffeine addicted boy beside him was, and now looking wary and distrustful.

"Oh God..." he breathed, flinching away from Butters' hand. Butters didn't know whether to try and assure him again, or if that would make him worse. "Where's Damien?"

Pip had a hand to his face, covering his mouth as he sobbed and looked around the room. His friends all hovered near him, not willing to move away and give him space nor get closer and try and calm him, lest they distress him more.

The sudden bang of a door flying open made everyone turn; Tweek yelled slightly and scurried over to Craig, Butters flinched and Pip gasped.

Damien stood in the doorway, hand still on the door he'd slammed open, and his eyes darted the room quickly, as if panicked. Kenny was just visible behind him.

"Damien!" Pip cried, and the demon ran quickly towards him.

"Pip!" Damien quickly pulled Pip into his arms, and the blonde wrapped his arms tightly around the Antichrist's chest. He sobbed freely into the black jumper he buried his face into.

"Oh thank God, you're okay, you're here, dear God I was so worried..." Damien rushed, threading his hands desperately through Pip's hair, pressing his cheek against his head. Everyone else in the room silently left, and closed the door behind them. He pulled Pip's face away from his chest to shower it with small kisses before he held him close again.

"Damien..." Pip gasped, clutching tightly to the noirette, pressing himself closer.

"See what you make me do? I just thanked God. Urgh." Damien muttered, but his lips twitched into a humoured smile and he chuckled quietly. Pip made an odd choking sound that could have been laughter.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"Don't be. I'm the one who needs to be sorry. I wasn't thinking when I stepped outside and it happened so fast..." Damien sighed.

"You came back. You actually came back, you're here..." Pip clung tighter to the dark haired boy.

"Of course I came back." The demon said. "I love you. I had to come back for you."

Pip stared at Damien for a moment taking in the words. Then he let out a joyful cry and threw himself once again into the noirette's arms.

"Oh Damien..."

"I promise you, I swear on my life, I swear to you Pip, I'm never going anywhere ever, ever again. You have my solemn promise."

Pip didn't reply, just stared up into Damien's eyes, his own showing a glint of trust.

"I... I know I do." He said eventually. Damien moved slowly forward, until he pressed their lips together. Pip lent into it, and for a minute they were locked together passionately, both desperately holding onto the other. When they broke apart Pip smiled, a true smile with joy etched into his every feature.

=X=

_I promise_

_To love you unconditionally,_

_To support you in your goals,_

_To honour and respect you,_

_To laugh with you and cry with you,_

_To cherish you _

_And stay by your side for all eternity,_

_In good times and in bad,_

_In joy as well as sorrow,_

_In sickness and in health..._

=X=

~End~

_A/N: I finally got it finished! Gosh it took me so long and I'm sorry, but I hope it is okay. I'm iffy about the beginning but after the first page it gets better I think. And I think the ending was good. I don't know, you tell me._

_This story totals something near 76 pages on Word in its entirety. I'm like 'OMFG NO WAI!'_

_There WILL be an epilogue, but it may be another while. Sorry, school eats up my time, because I'm getting my options ready and deciding on GCSEs and homework and shit like that, and I'm gonna have a piano exam soon too so I'll have even less time..._

_IMPORTANT NOTE:_

_Please check out my profile. I know there are over 20 people who have this on alert and should read this, so I'm hoping you'll all vote on my poll._

_The poll is asking which of my story ideas you'd like to be written, with the ideas all being multi-chapters. It'll be open until about a week after the epilogue is up, just to give plenty of time for people to vote. So go go go!_

_**THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU, MERCI, GRAZI AND ALL OTHER WAYS OF SAYING THANK YOU TO:**_

_t __(D.D if it doesn't show, hope you know who you are),___Kylee Carr_, _solairu_, _LoonieRiddleDragon_ and _angelgirl 158_ for commenting on last chapter!_

_Special thanks to everyone who added to subscription, or favourites. You guys are ALL the reason I carried on with this._

_And so, for now, I bid you farewell._

_Cheerio chaps! ;D_


	10. Chapter 10 ::Epilogue::

**In Sickness And In Health – Epilogue**

_A/N: I FINALLY FOUND A WAY AROUND THE ERROR 2 MESSAGE! FUCK YES~!_

_Sorry this has taken so long to upload _

_This isn't a necessary chapter; if you don't want to you don't have to read it, but this is the extra some people wanted. I hope you enjoy it, sorry if it took a while._

_::PLEASE READ THE END A/N AS IT CONTAINS SOME IMPORTANT NOTICES!:: - Thank You._

_Warnings: I don't think there are any warnings, but language, just in case._

_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I do own this story and it's plotline._

=X=

**=PIP=**

The sunlight filters through my blue curtains, casting a dim light over my eyes and waking me up. I blink my eyes open lazily, coming slowly to my senses. Light is coming in room through the window to my right. My bedcovers are still pulled tightly to my chin.

There's still the warmth of a familiar body lying next to me.

I roll over slowly, watching Damien sleep. He's beautiful when he sleeps, so peaceful. One hand is under his head, supporting it, the other rests gently on my hip. I smile and press myself closer to him, raising my own arm to wrap it round his torso.

I feel the fabric brush against the skin of my inner fore-arm, but choose to ignore the odd way the fabric catches slightly on my ragged scar. I can't think about that, not today. Today has to be perfect and happy, untainted by the darkness behind us.

The events of last year won't stop haunting me.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. _None of that_ I think firmly _just you and Damien. That's all that matters._

I lie awake for a few minutes before Damien starts stirring.

"Mornin' Dami." I whisper. His eyes open and look at me lazily.

"Mornin Pippers." He replies gently, smiling. I smile back.

"How are you this morning?" he asks. He always does.

"I'm okay." I assure him.

"That's good." He murmurs, pulling me to his chest. I smile and nuzzle against his neck. He sits up with a yawn, breaking the contact for a moment before he reaches down to place his warm hand over my own. I clasp it gently, keeping it with me, so I can feel the warmth of his skin on mine, and he squeezes back.

"D'you mind if I take a shower?" he asks. I smile and shake my head.

"No, go ahead, I'll meet you downstairs."

His eyes search me for a moment before he leans over to peck my cheek and walks out of the room, running a hand through his bed-tousled black hair. I stare after his disappearing back for a minute before I get up to get changed. I pull out a nice shirt, some light jeans and my new jumper. Because my last one was ruined, Damien offered to buy me another of the same type. It's fluffy, like its predecessor, but a different colour; this one is pure white. I didn't want an identical copy.

I look at myself in the mirror. The dark circles under my eyes from many nights of restless sleep disturbed by nightmares and panic attacks are getting lighter as I improve. My hair is brilliantly shiny again, and my skin is no longer too pale. I'm still slightly on the thin side, but I've filled out enough that I'm no longer an extremely unhealthy weight. I nod at myself and turn away.

I know Damien loves a cooked breakfast, a proper, full English breakfast, like I made for him when he first came over a year ago, so I'm going to make one this morning. Like a special treat, apart from the fact that he has it reasonably regularly.

I'm looking forward to today.

**=DAMIEN=**

I scan his features, to make sure there is no hint of worry hidden within them. I find nothing, so I kiss him quickly and make my way to the bathroom. I'm still wary of leaving him alone, especially without telling him or asking him if he's okay with it. No last-minute going out, no suddenly disappearing, even for a few minutes. Even if he is getting better, he's still fragile and I don't want to take us back to step one by being careless. I care about him way too much.

As I walk down the stairs after my shower I smell his wonderful breakfast. He's a fucking awesome cook. Way better than my dad could ever hope to be. He'll probably end up asking tips from him eventually. Yeah, my father asking cooking advice from my boyfriend. Makes me want to face-palm.

I stand in the archway to our kitchen/dining room, watching him. As he sets things up I see him take a small bottle of pills and swallow one.

Pip was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, or BPD, last year while he was in the hospital. He's been prescribed to a few antidepressants since then, just to prevent him from going on some sort of downward spiral. The therapy he does has helped significantly, and the therapist himself thinks that soon Pip won't need any sort of medication, and might even recover fully. I'm glad of that.

Pip turns and sees me, and beams. He smiles so much more now, and every time he does I can't help but do so too. I want him to be happy so badly, because he deserves it. If anyone deserves happiness, it is Philip Pirrup, this wonderful beautiful boy in front of me, this boy who has been through so many bad times and pulled himself through, this boy, my Pip.

He wraps his arms around my neck and pulls my face down to his. After lip-locking for a few minutes (goddamn I love kissing him) he pulls away, serves my breakfast onto a plate and sets it down.

"I'm going to go have a quick shower too, okay? I'll be down in a few minutes, so don't steal mine. I'm hungry."

I will not deny that every single time he disappears upstairs to the bathroom my heart jumps slightly and I become rather hyper-alert to him. I _do_ trust him, and since nothing has happened for a very long time I think the chances of anything suddenly happening are very slim, but I honestly can't help it.

I tuck into my breakfast, still on alert.

**=PIP=**

I quickly strip of my clothes and step into the warm stream of water. I wash, subconsciously avoiding my left arm. When I run my hand over it, the texture of the scar that reminds me it is still there sends a shiver up my spine, as always. Against my pale skin, it stands out, looking both darker and lighter than my normal skin tone; normally it seems a pale purplish colour, almost like a bruise, but if the light catches it, it has a weird shine. It's still quite ragged, and very permanent from the however-many stitches they put into it. Even Damien hasn't been able to heal it massively.

Because I was in a hospital and being monitored, he couldn't heal it faster to minimise scarring, so it had to heal at a natural rate, which caused this. He tried fixing it slightly afterwards, like he had with my older scars when he first came back, but although it faded slightly it's still extremely there and noticeable. It's not going away. I will always have a reminder of what I did, and while it upsets me to remember it too much, how it felt and what I was thinking, and ashamed of myself, I will also have a reminder that I lived through it to be able to look back.

I'm supposed to try and find a positive for it, because negativity will not get me anywhere, but it's hard with a scar from a near-successful suicide attempt.

"Pip?" Damien calls gently.

This signals that, while lost in my train of thought, I have been up here a bit longer than I told him and he's now worried. I hate worrying Damien. I've worried him too much already; he deserves to never be worried again. I promised myself I would never make him worry about me. I quickly dry myself, dress and wrap my hair in a towel.

"Sorry Dami, it was really warm and I lost the time in my thoughts." I apologise as I hurry down the stairs and sit opposite him. As I appear, unharmed, I see him relax slightly.

"It's okay. It's not your fault." He murmurs, resting his elbows on the table and leaning onto them slightly. I start to eat my breakfast, and giggle quietly when he steals a sausage off my plate.

"Hey, my breakfast." I remind him teasingly.

"But I like your sausages." Damien grins at me, before biting half of it off. I tut slightly and roll my eyes.

"Well, after we've finished, I was thinking of going to get a film." I smile. Damien nods and tries to mumble something but his mouth is full of sausage so I can't understand him. He swallows, and tries again.

"That'd be great. We haven't watched a film together in a while." He eventually manages. I smile and nod, returning to my breakfast. He continues to eat the rest of the stolen sausage.

After a quick trip over to the video rental store we're sat back in our front room, Damien spread out over the sofa with his head in my lap. He likes lying like that; I usually fall unconsciously to stroking his hair, which he enjoys. I've discovered that if I do it for long enough, he'll fall half asleep and make his own odd growling-purr-like sound. He denies it, but I know he does it, and I love it. It makes him seem sort of cute.

His eyes are focused lazily on the screen, half closed. He blinks slowly, then nudges his head gently into my hand, currently resting atop his head. I ruffle his hair slightly and smile down at him. He sits up slightly, and gestures for me to lie down beside him. I do, and cuddle into his chest, watching the movie over the top of him, and feel myself grow sleepy from the warmth.

**=DAMIEN=**

Pip nestles himself into my side, lying comfortably beside me, his head resting on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around him and gently stroke his silky hair like he was doing to me just before. I can see his eyes slowly grow heavy. He's tired a lot; he doesn't get very much sleep, because he's constantly waking. He's not quite so badly affected by nightmares anymore, but there are still times when he'll suddenly wake and not be able to sleep again. I cope a lot better with little sleep than humans do, so always being awake when he is doesn't affect me much, but it does take its toll on him sometimes.

I rub his arms soothingly, settling us both comfortably. He yawns adorably and lets his eyes fall shut. I turn the volume of the TV down so that it doesn't disturb him, and settle myself into a light half-awake state. I can feel him tense occasionally, a small twitch of the hand, a slightly tighter grip on my shirt. I squeeze him gently, trying to reassure him. This is the best thing to do when he seems tense in his sleep; if I wake him to comfort him, he won't sleep for sometimes hours afterwards.

Eventually he relaxes completely, and I can sense his mind is calm. It looks like he might actually get a decent spell of sleep.

I know today is the year mark – the anniversary if you will – of our reunion and unofficial (or non-public) date of us first becoming a couple. The past year has been tiring, I won't deny, and it's been tough, but we've made it through. This day is symbolic; a full year, a full circle. Now is the time to start again and leave the past behind us. Never forget it, no, but learn from it and move on. I reflect back on our year, the rough patches, the good times. The sympathy from a majority of the student body upon learning about what had happened to Pip; Pip slowly coming out of his shell, becoming _Pip_ again; the first time he smiled; the first time we kissed.

The mess with his parents was sorted not long after Pip had been released from hospital. Using threat of legal action for deliberately leaving Pip to become indebted to them, the Trents eventually withdrew their demand for repayment, and I bought the house as ours to avoid any further problems. I was extremely angry at them for causing Pip all this grief and almost flew into a rage at them – which may not have ended well – but Pip stopped me. I couldn't believe how nice he was to these people, but I saw in his eyes that he was wary about them. I could also see the guilt in Mrs. Trent's face, although no such emotion was present in Mr. Trent's. Apparently it had always been Mrs. Trent who was the most affectionate to Pip. I wondered if she had willingly gone along with her husband's plan, or if she was somehow forced.

Either way, it's behind us: we haven't had contact with them since, and like it that way.

Pip stirs in his sleep and looks up at me. His eyes search my face for a minute and I can tell he's thinking about whatever occurred to him in his sleep.

"I promise to stay with you through anything." He says eventually, eyes looking deep into mine.

"And I promise to stay by your side for eternity, no matter what happens." I tell him sincerely. He smiles contentedly, and settles down again.

"Thank you Damien. I love you." He murmurs, eyes closing once more.

"I love you too Pip." I tell him, and he nudges me with his head to show that he heard before he slips off to sleep again.

I decide to follow him, and as I drift off I repeat the vow I made to him, a full year ago.

**=X=**

_A/N: I think this is okay. This is the third attempt; it took me ages to actually achieve what I wanted from this epilogue._

_I hope I haven't disappointed any of you, and I hope you enjoyed the story. Thank you to my reviewers from last chapter: __**Meso the Hanyu**__, __**Kylee Carr**__ and __**angelgirl 158**__. _

_I am hoping to get quite a few reviews for this chapter; there are 25 people who have this on alert and I should theoretically get one from that many people. I hope as many of you review as possible, as this is the very end of this story, and I would very much appreciate knowing what you thought of it overall. So please, take this into account, and don't just read and leave. I'm not demanding, and I haven't said anything in previous chapters, but I really hope that the end of the story will mean more people review, more than just three, even if just to say 'I liked this story' 'I enjoyed this story', even critique will be fine (though hopefully only for this chapter, else it should have been pointed out sooner.)._

_ALSO!_

_My poll for next story; I currently have only 5 voters, and I have a tie between two stories. I would be extremely happy if as many people as possible went to my profile to vote so I can get started! It will be open for another 2-3 weeks from now, or until the tie is broken. I hope to see you voting if you haven't already._

_Well, this is... the end. The very, very end._

_From here, goodbye._

_See you in my next story :)_


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